


Bring Me To Life

by Kate_Shepard



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Bondage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation play, Porn, Porn With Plot, Rape Play, Shakarian - Freeform, Shakarios - Freeform, Shameless Smut, Shrios, Smut, inappropriate use of biotics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 11:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7638874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Shepard/pseuds/Kate_Shepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shepard falls for Thane, she doesn't realize that his guilt over Irikah overshadows everything else in his life. He recognizes what she really needs and gives it to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Thane would like to see you, Commander,” Kelly’s chirpy voice said as Shepard passed by her station. She nodded acknowledgement, feeling an unaccustomed thrill up her spine at the prospect. 

She wasn’t the type to get rattled by a man. She hadn’t had a relationship since Akuze, though that hadn’t been entirely by her own choice. While Kaidan and Liara had been fawning over her during the hunt for Saren, she’d had her eye on a certain turian…a turian who’d apparently had no idea that she was female. She’d tried and hoped for a little while and then accepted what was and had come to appreciate him as the guy who’d always had her back. 

She couldn’t deny that the hope had reared its head again when she’d found him on Omega but the easy-going, idealistic young C-Sec officer and Spectre hopeful who’d worshipped the ground she walked on had died along with her and the rest of his team. Now, he was still the guy who always had her back but long conversations by the Mako had morphed into calibrations that could never wait. The guns were operating at peak efficiency. Their friendship was not. 

Thane had been a welcome distraction at first and then a friend and then something more. He was distant, cool, and reserved, but had a forthrightness that drew her and layers beneath the smooth surface that she wanted to explore. And he, at least, recognized her as a woman and not just the commander tasked with taking them all into a suicide mission and attempting to bring them back out again. It was easy not to think about Thane’s illness or his mortality when she was almost certain that they were all going to die anyway. 

If she thought too long or hard about what she was attempting to accomplish or what had come before that had landed her on a Cerberus vessel on this insane mission in the first place, about the impossibility of it and the fact that she was asking two of her best friends to die with her, she could feel the choking burning agony of Alchera wrap its hands around her throat and lean its knee into her chest. So she didn’t think about it beyond the technicalities of the mission. One day at a time was how she’d learned to live this new life. Recruit her specialists. Allow them to find their closure. Upgrade the ship. Fight the Collectors where she found them. Prepare. Prepare. Prepare. Don’t think about the other side of the relay until you have to. Don’t wonder how you’re going to get them back out of this new hell. 

She exited the lift on the crew deck and entered the Life Support room. As usual, he didn’t turn when she entered. He knew before the door opened who she was and that she was about to enter. He didn’t need to confirm it visually. “Thane, you wanted to see me?” she said. 

He didn’t answer until she was facing him and simply gestured for her to take the seat across from him that she’d begun to think of as hers. Only then did he say, “Yes. I trust I am not taking you from your duties. This is a personal request rather than a professional one. I can wait if another time would be more convenient for you.”

“I’ve got time,” she assured him. It was a travel day. Miranda had the day-to-day running of the ship so smooth by now that Shepard was only required for major difficulties or decisions that were beyond her XO’s scope and EDI was handling the scanning of resources. She’d completed all of her reports and had found herself at loose ends, something with which she had yet to become accustomed. His request had been welcome.

He inclined his head and said, “I have been considering what you said when last we spoke. As I said, I am intrigued. However, I do not believe that you have a full understanding of what you propose and I feel the need to enlighten you before we discuss the matter further. There are certain…appetites which I possess with which you may not be comfortable.”

Trust Thane to cut right to the point. He didn’t waste time on small talk. It was one of the things she liked about him. It also had the effect of keeping her off-balance at times. She never knew what was going on in that magnificent brain of his and this was no exception. His mention of appetites had her mind running in directions ranging from the absurd to the obscene and her curiosity was piqued. “What kind of appetites?” she asked.

“Are you familiar with the concept of power exchange dynamics within a relationship?” he asked.

That was not where she had expected him to go but she wasn’t opposed. By virtue of her personality, there was almost always at least a slight imbalance of power within her relationships and, given that she was his employer, she anticipated that it would occur with him as well. If he wanted to formalize and have fun with it, she was open to that. “I am,” she answered. “If you want to be led in the bedroom as well as the battlefield, I can handle that.”

His lips quirked and his eyes danced with dark amusement that she was almost certain was directed at her. He shook his head and said, “I am afraid you do not understand. _I_ have no desire to submit control. I follow your lead, Commander, because that is my role to play within this mission. However, we are not discussing the mission and you are not the commander here. Here, we are on equal footing. I wish for you to relinquish that equality to me within our personal arrangement.”

“You want _me_ to submit?” she asked doubtfully. “Have you met me, Thane? I’m not exactly the type to bow and scrape.”

“No,” he said and there was some of that cold derisiveness that she’d seen in him that first day on Illium. “However, you are a soldier. Surely you do not equate subordination with weakness or kowtowing. You submitted yourself to your commanding officers within the Alliance. You do so now with the Illusive Man. You of all people should understand chain of command.”

When he put it that way, it didn’t seem so far-fetched. Still… “What do you get out of this?” she asked.

“Pleasure,” he answered. “The exhilaration of witnessing a strong, powerful woman willingly cede control to me. The secret knowledge that, while you issue commands on the ship and in the field, you release that persona and take your orders from me when we are alone, that you give precedence to my needs, my desires, my enjoyment over your own. And, in return, you get the freedom of being released from responsibility, the weight of decision-making, and of knowing without a doubt that what you are doing is correct as well as the promise of physical pleasures beyond your imagining. Think about it, Shepard.”

Think about it, he said, as if she could do anything else. The idea germinated in her mind, took root, and held. She had never been on the other side of that imbalance of power, had never truly wished to. She was the boss. She was in command. She was in control. She held the reins. However, she had also never died and been brought back and given a task whose level of impossibility made the journey to Ilos look like a day trip in comparison. The idea of being able to have a place where she was not the one who had to be constantly vigilant, constantly responsible, constantly leading and guiding and molding others was intriguing. She thought about it on assignments. She thought about it during chow. She thought about it in the shower and while cleaning her weapons and armor and in bed. She thought a lot about it in bed.

“All right,” she said, taking a seat across from him. “I’m interested. What now?”

He regarded her closely before saying, “First, I will send you a list of activities that I prefer as well as the ones in which I am not willing to participate. They will be clearly marked. Anything not contained on the list is something I do not enjoy but that is not a limit. You will rank the activities listed by preference and clearly mark your limits. If there is something you enjoy or would like to try that is not on the list, you may add it and I will indulge you on occasion. I will likely ask you to participate in activities you do not enjoy and I am willing to do the same for you. If something is necessary for your satisfaction, mark that as well and I will give it to you as long as it does not fall among my limits.”

“That sounds simple enough,” she said. It would, at least, give her an idea of what to expect.

His voice turned more serious than normal as he said, “Do not treat limits as being set in stone. Expect them to change as you gain experience. If we try something and you discover that it is something you simply cannot or will not tolerate, you must tell me. If you become curious about something you had thought you could not or would not tolerate, you may tell me that as well. I will provide you with a safe place to explore that curiosity should you wish. I will push your limits with your consent but I will never cross them.”

“I’m not really concerned about that,” she said. “If I trust you, you can do pretty much whatever you want to me. I tend to be pretty adventurous about sex anyway.”

“Oh?” he asked. The lift of a brow ridge was the only warning she had before he leapt over the table and pinned her against the window by her throat. He leaned in and murmured darkly, “May I then fuck your ass in front of the entire crew? May I warp your organs without armor or shields? May I shave your head and tattoo or brand my name in your skin? May I pimp you out to batarians on Omega for my viewing pleasure? May I order you to kill one you believe to be an innocent? May I hold you like this until you pass out, leaving me free to decide whether or not to release you? I thought not. You have limits, Shepard. When you state that you do not, what you mean is that you do not anticipate that I will unknowingly cross them or that you believe that our limits would coincide. That is not necessarily the case. I would not harm you. However, I would not hesitate to drag you into the mess hall and fuck you in front of the entire crew if they gave consent and it would not jeopardize our mission. I would degrade you in a thousand different ways if given the chance and reach orgasm while doing so. You would do well to remember that I am an assassin. I have killed innocents and slept like a babe after doing so. You believe that you know me but you do not. You will should you choose to do this. However, do not presume that I have the same moral standards that you do or the same definition of harm.”

“Commander, do you require assistance?” EDI said. 

Thane eased his hold on her so that she could respond. “No, EDI,” she said. “I’m fine. Thane is just giving me an object lesson.”

“I do not detect signs of duress,” EDI said. “I will refrain from alerting the others.”

“Thank you, EDI,” she said and turned her attention back to Thane who still had his hand locked around her throat. “You’ve made your point,” she said to him.

He released her and stepped back with his hands clasped behind her back. There was a challenge in his voice when he said, “Well, Shepard? Should I send you the list?” 

She told herself that it wasn’t odd that she had felt only excitement rather than fear when he had pounced. She was an N7 soldier and a Spectre. If she didn’t thrive on adrenaline and the threat of death, she would be in the wrong profession. So she said, “Yes.”

He inclined his head slightly and said, “As you wish. When you return it to me, we will discuss the rules and our expectations.”


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard scanned the list again. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in her cabin as she perused the document he’d forwarded to her omni-tool. Some of them were typical and expected. Bondage, spanking, role play, flogging, biting were all things she pictured when thinking of the arrangement she’d expected. Some of them were a bit intimidating. Fire play, breath play, degradation weren’t necessarily limits but she was wary of them. A roleplay interrogation with him could be fun and so could creative uses of biotics as long as he wasn’t warping her liver or something. Some of them were bizarre. Name changing, being given away, _serving as furniture_? He couldn’t possibly be serious. She marked those and some of the more extreme ones to discuss with him later.

It was far easier to determine what she enjoyed, thought she would enjoy, or was curious about than it was to list everything she considered a limit. His little object lesson had served its purpose. Thane was detail-oriented. He would expect her to be thorough and not assume anything. She thought _Don’t kill me_ would be obvious but she wrote it down anyway. The biggest problem was that she didn’t know what she didn’t know. She’d never considered any of this from the perspective of receiving it. She honestly didn’t know what she would like and what she wouldn’t. Therefore, unless it would cause her real mental, physical, or psychological harm or endanger the mission, she would at least be willing to try it once.

He approved of that attitude when she relayed it to him. “As I said before, I do not expect you to know all of your limits. You may find that, even within the things you enjoy, there will be parts or extremes to which you will not go. For example, you may be willing to allow me to choose a name for you that I will use to differentiate between times when I address you as the commander and when I expect submission but be unwilling to take that name legally.”

“I was wondering about that,” she said. “The first is fine. The second is not. What do you mean, ‘being given away’?”

He folded his hands together over the table and said, “Ah, yes. I expected you to question that one. I would prefer it if you would allow that. There are certain things which I may wish to train into you such as orgasm on command or denial without permission that can be difficult to untrain on your own. Should something happen to me, the ability to have someone in place to aid you in transitioning out of that mindset could be valuable. There is a…vulnerability that comes with accepting this role and to have the one upon whom you learn to rely be taken suddenly away can exacerbate the normal sense of loss. A trusted other can make that easier.”

“Is there really anyone you trust?” she asked.

“For myself?” he asked. “No. For you? Yes. There are those whom I am confident would both understand and go to great lengths to care for you in any way necessary without risk of taking advantage of that temporary state of vulnerability. People whom you trust as well.”

“Who?” she asked.

He gave an enigmatic smile and said, “The answer to that is part of the power dynamic.”

“You mentioned rules,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “My rules are simple and similar to those you have for your own crew. When we are together privately, you will obey my orders without hesitation. If you do not, you will be punished as you would punish one of your crew. You may question but you will do so as you act. Additionally, you may not touch me without permission. You will address me as Sere. You will not orgasm without my permission. You will eat a minimum of two real meals per day when on board the ship or on shore leave. You will sleep at least six hours per night when the mission allows you to do so. You will not use drugs and you will not consume more than two alcoholic drinks without my permission and never before we are to be together. Your health is important to me. You will not neglect it as you have been doing of late.”

“I don’t always have time to sit down and eat a real meal even on travel days,” she said.

“I did not say you had to sit to do so,” he said. “I simply stated that you would eat. If you choose to do so on the run, you have that option. You are too thin, Shepard. You need fuel. This is not negotiable.”

“Fine,” she said. “But if I do have time to sit, I expect you to eat at least one of those meals with me.”

“Why?” he asked.

She said, “My parents ate at least one meal together every day when they were in the same place. I liked that.”

“No,” he said. “This is not your parents’ relationship. I am not your husband, your mate, nor even your boyfriend though you may address me as such to others for the sake of simplicity. I am your master. I will eat with you when I choose to do so.”

“Then I’ll eat when I damn well want to,” she said.

“You are being unreasonable,” he stated. “This rule is for your benefit, not mine.”

“I’m not a child,” she said. “I know my limits.”

“Then why do you not abide by them?” he asked mildly.

“I do,” she said.

“Then why are you thinner than you were when we met?” he countered. “You do not have body fat to lose. Therefore, you are consuming muscle.”

“Fine,” she said. She knew he was right and she was being unreasonable but his refusal to eat with her stung. She’d thought it was a simple enough request considering that he rarely left the ship and did little beyond fighting on the ground team. Garrus, Tali, Miranda, and Jacob had jobs on board. He and the others did not. It was not as if he was short on…oh. “All right,” she said, more quietly this time.

When they had discussed everything else they felt the need to discuss, she said, “Why can’t I touch you?”

“Again, it is part of the dynamic. I have the authority to touch you as I wish. You do not have the same access to my body,” he said. 

“So what do I do with my hands when I kiss you?” she asked.

“You won’t,” he said. “Drell venom is hallucinogenic and strongest in our saliva. You may feel slight effects from it in other areas but I wish for you to be present, not imagining yourself having a picnic on the hull with Aria T’Loak while I am fucking you. Have we reached an accord?”

“We have,” Shepard answered. 

“Good,” he said. “Strip. I would like to see you.”

“Have you ever been with a human?” she asked as she began to unbutton her shirt.

“Have you ever been with a human…?”

“Sere,” she added, shedding her shirt and moving on to her boots.

“Yes,” he answered simply. 

“Good,” she said, moving up to her pants. “At least one of us knows what we’re doing.”

“It is analogous,” he assured her. “Are you nervous, Shepard?”

“A little,” she admitted. “The good kind, mostly.”

“I will not harm you,” he reminded her. “I do not even intend to hurt you…this time.”


	3. Chapter 3

She folded her clothing and placed it on the table before moving to stand in the light of his display case. She suddenly felt self-conscious about the scars that criss-crossed her body, the result of her Cerberus rebuild. Her teeth tugged on her lip as she hoped he wouldn’t find them off-putting. He was the very essence of male physical perfection while she was bland and dull by comparison. She knew that her shape was good. She had nice breasts, excellent muscle tone, long legs, and a trim waist with gently flaring hips but he looked as if he’d been carved from emerald and onyx and ruby and sex. 

His face had been impassive as he’d watched her undress and she wondered if she should have made more of a show of it. Her movements had been economical rather than tantalizing and he looked bored. She resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably or rock back into her commander stance. He rose and walked toward her with that same expression of blasé indifference. She remained still as he prowled around her, eyeing her critically, making her feel like an animal at auction. She half expected him to pick up her feet or check her teeth.

Instead, he reached up and tugged her lip free of the teeth that were worrying it and said, “You are insecure about your scars. Do not be. They make you look as if you are lit from within by flame.”

Her hands itched to touch him. But for the thumb against her lip, he wasn’t touching her at all. She was naked while he was fully dressed. It was a tactic she’d used herself with lovers in the past to emphasize the differences in their positions. It was far more effective than she’d realized. She felt exposed in a way that she would not have if he’d been naked with her. He leaned his head in and she felt his lips brush along the line of her neck, closer to a breath than a true touch. His teeth closed over her earlobe and she gasped. The position she was in had her overly sensitized and even the barest of touches from him were sending sparks raining across her skin. 

His thumb left her lip to graze over her chin and then down her throat. His hand spread then, covering almost the entirety of her collarbone before ghosting down over her breasts and across her ribcage. His touch was so light that she could barely feel it and he maintained his bland expression. She was on fire already and he looked completely unmoved. His nails scraped lightly over her hipbone and down the outside of her thigh before grazing up the inside of it. He stopped just below the juncture and she made a sound of want. 

“So impatient,” he said. “Is this what you want, Shepard?” Then his hand was locked around her throat and she was shoved back into the bulkhead. He bit the side of her neck as the hand on her thigh came up to trail through the wetness at her center before circling her clit. Her hands scrambled for purchase on the smooth metal as her foot drew up to give her leverage so that she could press forward into his hand. Need, something she hadn’t felt in longer than she could remember, sank its talons in deep and she cried out as his fused fingers plunged into her core. “I asked you a question,” he said.

“Yes!” she answered.

“Then it is what you will get,” he said. “The purpose of this first time is to prove to you that I can bring you pleasure and to learn your baseline. It will be the only time when your desires will supersede mine.” His thumb circled her clit as his fingers continued to work her and his hand tightened on her throat. She searched for something—anything—to anchor her. “Hands on your head,” he ordered. “Pull your hair.”

She buried her hands in the hair above the nape of her neck and pulled. It had the combined effect of giving her something to hold, adding to the sensations, and turning her own hands into his instruments when his were otherwise occupied. She rose onto the toes of the foot still on the floor as his teeth scraped over her nipple and his tongue followed to soothe the sting. They were much sharper than they looked with edges like knives and the imagine of those teeth on her body was enough to send her spiraling. Almost too late, she remembered his rule and all but shouted, “Please!”

“Come,” he said and it was an order as much as permission. Her hands tightened in her hair as she broke. He gave her no time to recover. While she was still trembling with her release, he slid a leather-clad arm beneath her hips and lifted her up. She felt him nudge against her entrance as her legs wrapped around his waist for balance and then he was burying himself within her. A glance at his face through heavy-lidded eyes showed that he still looked completely unaffected while she was falling apart. Even the movements of her internal muscles that drove human men to distraction did nothing to change that.

It was sobering and enough to pull her from her enjoyment of the ridges that lined his erection which were currently moving against her with delicious friction. “Are you bored, Sere?” she asked, forcing her voice into neutrality rather than the bite it threatened to contain. “Because I can go if you aren’t enjoying this.”

His voice was even with only the barest hint of irritation when he said, “As I said, this time is not about me.” 

“Thinking my partner’s bored doesn’t make this enjoyable. I have toys that give off more of a reaction than you are and, right now, would be more fun,” she said more harshly than she’d intended. 

“If you would like to come again when you beg—and you will beg—then I would suggest losing the attitude,” he said without breaking stride. “You would do well to remember that you are not my commander here.”

“Is it going to kill you to at least pretend to be made of something other than stone?” she asked, disregarding his warning. She didn’t want a fight but, damn it, she’d like to at least know he felt _something_. She was beginning to regret agreeing to this.

“You will not antagonize me into a reaction, Shepard,” he said, looking directly at her. “How well does insubordination work on you? If you would like to attempt to rephrase that, I will give you one opportunity before I simply walk away and leave you to your toys. If something is wrong, then say so clearly.”

She leaned her head back and stared up at the overhead as she struggled to tamp down the irritation she felt at his utter lack of interest. When she had collected herself, she said, “Sere, you look bored. That makes me feel like you are completely unaffected by this. If I just wanted to get off and wanted something impersonal, I could do that by myself. This is…humiliating.”

“Why?” he asked, finally slowing and simply holding her in place.

She didn’t look at him as she said, “Because you’re still dressed while I’m naked. Because with the condom you’re wearing and the way you’re holding me up, I’m not actually touching any part of you. You’re…completely removed while I’m completely open and that might be hot in an existing relationship where I’m confident of your attraction to me, it is not the first time when I don’t know if you’d rather be scrubbing the decks or meditating or watching paint peel than fucking me. Are you even here with me? Are you lost in memory? Are you closing your eyes and thinking of London? Baseball? Hanar poetry? Irikah? Making a list of weapon mods you want? This isn’t even sex. It’s just…masturbation on top of someone else that I can’t tell wants to be here.”

“I would not be here if I did not wish to be, Shepard,” he said. “That is one of the benefits of this arrangement. You need not worry about my pleasure because I will take it as I wish.” He lowered her down and she stifled her disappointment as he turned away from her. She reached out for her clothing and he said, “Where are you going?”

“We’re done, right?” she asked without looking at him. “We tried. It didn’t work.”

“Giving up already, Shepard?” he asked with a taunt to his voice. He spun and she felt his breath fan over the back of her neck as his nails raked up her thigh. Her eyes drifted closed of their own volition and she almost made the mistake of leaning back into him. An arm banded across her waist drew her back anyway and she gasped when she felt the smooth slide of warm scales against her bare skin. 

“I thought you would understand needing to shift mission parameters,” he said as his teeth scraped against her ear. “You are new to me as well, Shepard. You are not the only one who must learn. I am not so arrogant as to believe that I will never misjudge. The distance aroused you in the beginning. Had you informed me when that changed rather than waiting until it had become a point of contention, I would have corrected for it. You must trust me not to harm you but I must also be able to trust you to give me the information necessary to avoid pitfalls. I do not yet know your mind and you are not an easy woman to read even for me, Shepard. If skin on skin is important to you, then say so. If being able to read your partner’s enjoyment is important to you, then say so. All you must do is ask and I would willingly tell you that I enjoy you.”

“It is important,” she said. “I don’t want to fuck a stone. When all the rest is stripped away, this is still supposed to be something done between two people who at least feel something for each other. If you’re neutral about the whole thing, then I’m wasting my time.”

“I can assure you that I am most certainly not neutral,” he said with a snort. His teeth closed over her shoulder and he bent her forward without separating their bodies. She braced her hands against the edge of the table as he lined up and entered her once more. Like this, she could feel the slide of his skin…scales…whatever against her body and the play of densely sculpted muscle beneath them as he began to thrust. He groaned and said into her ear, “You feel like living silk around me and the sounds you make are almost lewd. Do you know how enticing it is to know that while the crew goes about their business just outside the door, in here I have the great Commander Shepard at my mercy? To know that they have no idea what we are doing in here? To know that you have agreed to give yourself to me? You are mine now, Shepard, and I am going to use you. I am going to degrade you. I am going to make you scream my name and beg for my touch. And I am going to relish doing it.”

“Oh gods, Thane,” she moaned, rocking back into him. His hand met her ass sharply and she said quickly, “Sere!”

“Better,” he said. “You will make mistakes and I will enjoy correcting you. Moan for me, Shepard. Let me hear you.”

He shifted his angle, hitting a new spot inside of her and she moaned shamelessly. “Please keep talking,” she said. “Your voice…”

He gave a low chuckle and said, “I am going to fuck you until you cannot move tomorrow without feeling me inside of you. When you are in the field with your armor rubbing against you, you will remember how it felt when I took you again and again and again. You will beg, Shepard, and you will come screaming your name for me and then you will remember that I am no longer Thane to you here.”

His fingers plucked at her nipple, rolling it between them as his tongue dragged across the back of her neck and his other hand dipped between her legs to trace around her clit. She drew a knee up to brace it against the underside of the table as her head dropped back onto his muscular shoulder. Her breath was coming in rapid gasps and she felt the rumble in his chest as her hips rolled, trying to get more of both his cock and his hands. She wanted to bring a hand up to the back of his neck for leverage and contact, wanted to turn her head and kiss him, wanted to reach back and grab his ass to pull him deeper into her. 

“Oh, please, Sere,” she groaned as the pressure began to build.

“No,” he said. “You will wait for my command.” 

“I don’t…I can’t…oh gods,” she cried out as pleasure coiled tightly in her belly, turning sharp and demanding. 

“You can,” he said implacably, showing her no mercy as the fingers that had been circling her clit brushed directly over it.

She bit down on her hand to muffle the scream as her body tightened around him. “I can’t. Mercy. Please.”

“Do you know how many people have begged me for mercy, Shepard?” he purred in her ear. “Would you like to guess how many received it?”

“None,” she gasped. 

“Correct,” he said. “However, you are not my target. Mercy shall be your safeword. Overuse it and I will take it from you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sere,” she answered. She could feel her walls beginning to flutter around him in preparation for release she could no longer voluntarily hold back. “Oh, please. Stop. Please stop.”

He froze instantly. “What do you need, Shepard?” he asked.

“A minute. Just…a minute. I can’t hold back if you keep going,” she said, panting. 

“Good girl,” he praised, running his hands down her arms. “Breathe, Shepard. I am going to begin again. Ask for mercy if you need it.” 

His pace was slower now but deeper as well and her every breath came out as a moan. She had only just begun to regain her control and those almost lazy thrusts that seated himself within her on every stroke pushed her to the edge again and held her there. He avoided her nipples and her clit, choosing instead to run his hand over her thighs and abdomen as the other arm held her in place and prevented her from moving in search of that last bit of sensation that would send her over. It was longer than she would have expected before she bit out, “Mercy. Please.”

He stopped again, allowing her to catch her breath before he placed a hand between her shoulder blades and pressed her front flat on the table. He reached up to position her hands above her head and the movement drove him in deep when she wasn’t expecting it. It was almost enough to break her control and she shuddered hard. His hands wrapped around her hips and he said, “This time is for me. Do not come without permission or I will punish you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as he began to pound into her, deep and hard and fast, hitting all of the spots that she liked best. She did scream his name then and beg but he showed her no quarter. Her hands fisted on the table but she held them where he’d put them and he leaned forward and began to bite from the base of her neck down either side of her spine as his nails raked over her thighs and chest and shoulders. His hand wrapped around her throat and she stomped her foot without thinking. She felt him shift to avoid her but, rather than get angry, he laughed. “Are you close, Shepard?”

“Yes, Sere,” she said desperately. “Oh, fuck. I’ve never been so close in my goddamn life. Gods, you feel so good. You feel amazing. You fuck like the devil himself.” He groaned and his pace quickened. She found that if she focused on his enjoyment rather than her own, she could ride the edge for just a bit longer. “You’re so good at this. I wanted you the minute I saw you in Dantius Towers. You move like water and when you killed Nassana…oh, fuck…you killed her like a lover. It was the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I wanted to fuck you on her desk right in front of Garrus and Kasumi.”

“I am shocked, Shepard,” he said and there was a hint of breathlessness in his tone. “You are the one who attempts to preserve life.” His lips grazed her neck and then her ear as he pounded almost violently into her and the dichotomy made her shudder. “Is that your dirty secret, Shepard? That you get off on watching me kill?”

“Yes,” she admitted. 

“I could accept a contract on Omega and let you watch,” he offered. “How would you want me to do it? Sniping? No. You can do that yourself. Close, like with Nassana? Or would you like to watch my hands wrap around someone’s head and jerk, snapping their neck?”

She moaned at the last image and arched up into him. “Please, Sere,” she begged.

“Would you like to come with me, Shepard?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she panted, on the verge of begging for mercy once more. If he stopped her this time, she was afraid she would have to cut the desire completely and would be left unfulfilled and irritable. He’d been teasing her, edging her again and again for what felt like hours. 

“Are you going to remember to speak respectfully in the future?” he asked and she realized that he’d been punishing her as he’d warned her he would do. Her stomach clenched with the worry that he was going to deny her again. She had been insubordinate. The only one of her people who could get away with speaking to her like that was Garrus and only because she viewed him as more of an equal than a subordinate.

“Yes, Sere,” she said contritely.

“Good girl,” he purred. “Come with me, Shepard.”

His fingers swept over her clit as he simultaneously fisted his hand in her hair and pulled hard while biting down on the back of her neck. She _shattered_ around him as his hips bucked and he pulsed inside of her. Her knees gave out and she was grateful for the support of the table and his hands on her because she would have fallen otherwise. His chest pressed into her back and his hands wrapped around her wrists with his thumbs brushing over the rapid pulse there. 

He regained his composure quickly and withdrew slowly enough to avoid irritating the hypersensitive tissue between her legs. “Can you support yourself for a moment?” he asked. Unable to speak, she flashed him a thumbs-up and he chuckled. The table held her. She heard movement behind her but couldn’t work up the energy to move her head to see what he was doing. A moment later, she felt something cool gliding over her skin and realized that he was applying medigel to the bite marks on her back where he’d broken through the skin. 

He gave it a moment to set and then she felt his blanket drape over her. He wrapped it carefully around her and lifted her. She’d expected him to take her to his cot but he chose the chair instead and sat with her in his lap. He arranged her so that her legs were draped over his and the back of her head was against his shoulder as his hands slowly rubbed her arms through the blanket. 

When she’d roused enough to blink up at him, he gave her arms a quick squeeze. She tilted her head back to kiss the ruby ribbing of his throat and he deftly moved out of her reach, bending over to retrieve a bottle of water from a miniature cooler beneath the table. “Drink, Shepard,” he said softly. “You did well. Did you enjoy that?”

She drank as commanded and nodded her head. “Yes,” she said when she lowered the bottle. “I think if you had stopped me again, I would have shut down, though.”

“I thought as much,” he said. “I honestly did not expect you to last as long as you did. I am impressed. Do you feel any pain?”

“No, Sere,” she answered. “I feel…amazing.”

“Good,” he answered, stroking her hair. She turned her head so that her cheek was against his chest and nuzzled into him. He stilled her with a hand before resuming. She looked up at him curiously but he didn’t answer her unspoken question. Apparently, intimacy was allowed on his part but not on hers. She wondered about that. Was it simply a way of maintaining distance, of reinforcing the imbalance? When she had been in something similar to his role—though never quite as intense as what he proposed—she’d appreciated those vulnerable moments from her partners where they’d turned to her. She tended to gravitate toward tough men and enjoyed seeing them soften and knowing that it only happened for her. He, clearly, did not. Or was it something else entirely? She wished he would tell her the full truth of why she wasn’t allowed to touch him. Wait…he’d never said she couldn’t, only that she had to have his permission.

“May I touch you, Sere?” she asked.

“How?” he asked, stilling.

“I really want to kiss your neck,” she admitted.

He considered it for a moment and said, “No. I do not like being touched, Shepard.”

“Oh,” she said. “I won’t ask again, then.”

“Thank you,” he replied.   
 


	4. Chapter 4

Shepard was standing spread-eagle against the window to the drive core, blindfolded, listening closely for any hint of movement that would give her an idea of his next move. When she had entered Life Support and seen the implements lying on the table, she had expected to do nothing more than tolerate this for him. She didn't consider herself a masochist. She had an incredibly high pain tolerance and could keep going after almost any injury, but she didn't get any enjoyment out of it. She wasn't in this for the S&M part. That was his preference. She was in it for the psychological thrill of being controlled, for the freedom not to choose—which, given that her job involved making life-or-death decisions that affected millions if not billions on a daily basis, was a significant freedom indeed—and for the mind-blowing sex.

He had stripped her naked before slamming her face-first into the window with enough force to rattle it and she'd had just enough time to think _Don't look up, Tali_ before the blindfold had covered her eyes and she'd felt him press against her back in a slide of bare chest and loose slacks that, she'd noticed earlier, hung off of his hipbones in a most enticing way. He'd looked delicious. His hands had drifted down her arms as he'd said into her ear, "What do you say if it becomes too much?"

"Mercy," she answered obediently.

"Correct. We will begin." But, rather than the bite of the whip she'd expected, she'd felt the tingle of a stasis field around her hands, presumably to keep her from inadvertently reaching back or moving when he didn't expect and harming herself, before the leather straps of the flogger drifted over her skin like a lover's touch. He was acclimating her to it, giving her time to prepare herself. She closed her eyes and centered herself the way she did before a mission. This wasn't so different.

Music began to play and she realized that it was _her_ music, not his. This wasn't the melodic, lilting strains of the old-fashioned tunes he enjoyed but the heavy, throbbing beat that pounded in her chest during missions and made her feel grounded and alive. He began slowly, allowing her to acclimate to the new sensation, creating a rhythm with the music she could anticipate, letting her become familiar with the tool. 

The leather was heavy enough to thud against her skin and send reverberations through her body but light enough to also nip on the backswing, simultaneously loosening muscle and drawing blood to the surface of the skin to warm it and make it more pliable. It was...like the strangest massage she'd ever received. She couldn't call it comfortable—a real massage rarely was in its entirety—but it was a kind of discomfort she enjoyed. She began to relax into it and groaned as muscles that had been knotted since waking up too early in a station under attack released their tension. The dull, omni-present headache that had plagued her disappeared, more conspicuous in its absence than it had been in its presence. 

"Oh, fuck," she groaned in delight. "I think I love you. My kingdom for this right here. You are a god among men, Sere Krios."

"I think she likes it," he said to no one in particular.

He paused and she wished that she could look back over her shoulder to see what he was doing. The music covered any sounds he might have made, though he certainly did not need music to move silently when he wanted. A moment later, the flogger was replaced by a lighter pair and a new rhythm. Four-count became eight, the almost lazy rhythm sped and the sound of the music was accompanied by the rapid percussion of leather on skin and the whistle of the falls that moved the air, stirring her hair with what was almost a cool breeze over her heated skin. 

She felt herself begin to move in response to the rhythm and heard what she thought was a sound of approval from him as she sank into sensation and the tools that were extensions of his body and, therefore, essentially his touch. Her worries about the mission, about Jack and Miranda's infighting and Zaeed's temper and the Illusive Man's lies faded as she gave herself over entirely to the present. She decided that, if for no other reason, she could let him do this as often as he wanted because that was a rare gift since her death and resurrection.

Too soon, he stopped but the glide of his hands over her back and shoulders told her that he was checking in. His teeth grazed her ear and he said, "Are we good, Siha?"

"Golden, Sere," she answered in a vaguely blissful tone.

"Good," he said. "I believe you are going to enjoy this next part. Would you like to see?"

"No, Sere," she answered. She didn't want to leave this web of magic and sensation he'd spun around her.

"Very well," he said and she felt the thin, plaited length of the whip trail over her shoulders and around her neck. He held it like a garrote, blatantly threatening and demanding her trust, and she leaned back into him when he tugged. Her head tipped back onto his shoulder and the whip held her there as his mouth crashed down onto hers. The kiss was all but punishing, a flurry of demanding lips and teeth that claimed and possessed without reserve. When she tried to sweep her tongue between them, he tightened the whip in warning. She remembered what he'd said about his venom and saliva and wanting her sober when they played and didn't try again.

He released her abruptly and she resumed her previous position. The first touches on her skin were light brushes. That did not last long and soon she could hear the whistle of the whip as it cut through the air. The steady rhythm from before morphed into something far less predictable. It was biting at first and she wasn't certain about it until he increased the force. Then, combined with the randomness of his strikes, gave her the impression of being caught in a storm where all of the raindrops were made of fire. 

She loved it and she hated it. His stasis fields held her hands immobile but he allowed her to shift and dance on tiptoe as he rained down his precise blows. Then it cracked just before making contact with her shoulder and she cursed and gave a reactionary stomp of her foot. He was on her almost instantaneously, drifting cool fingers over hot skin and running his nose along the line of her spine. "I'm okay," she said. "Just surprised me."

He brushed his lips over her shoulder and stepped away from her once more and casting her back into the storm. The feeling that grew in her was some combination of the exhilaration she felt after a successful mission or hard workout and the intensity leading up to orgasm. She sensed that there was some final rush she was chasing and toward which he was pushing her and, when she found it, it hit her with all the force of a charging krogan. He was there, catching her as her knees trembled and gave, releasing the stasis and letting her sink back into his arms. 

“You did well, Siha,” he praised. 

He carried her to the cot and laid her down. She could smell the dry, musky scent of him on his pillow as he smoothed medigel over her back, ass, and thighs. When he asked how she was doing, she could only nod weakly. Forming words was too much of an effort for her euphoria-laden mind. He stroked her shoulders and her hair, allowing her to ride the rush of endorphins and come down at her own pace. She turned her head to look at him and was almost overwhelmed by the need to touch him, to form her own link to him, and she reached out before remembering and settling for having her hand near enough to his thigh that she could feel his body heat. 

He covered her with the blanket and rose. “Sleep, Siha. I will be here.”

She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he took a seat in the chair. She wished that he would lie with her but that would necessitate letting her lay on him and that was something she couldn’t do even if he liked being touched. The pressure on his chest would restrict his breathing. So she watched him as the rush faded and exhaustion began to claim her. She was almost asleep when she heard him begin to speak. She opened her eyes to see that his had taken on the far-away look that she associated with his solipsism.

“Golden skin glows in the light, a look of pure bliss on her lovely face. It is her first time but she has done well and knows it,” he said and she felt a rush of satisfaction at his praise. “Sunset eyes turn trustingly toward me. ‘Are you pleased, Sere?’ ‘I am, beloved. You never cease to amaze me.’ She holds the true power here. She is the sun and I am but her satellite.” Shepard swallowed thickly and turned her head away so that he couldn’t see the disappointment on her face. When he came back, he would think she’d done it in her sleep. She felt like an interloper and tried to tone him out. The love and affection in his voice came from another man, a man she could not touch.


	5. Chapter 5

“You wanted to see me, Thane?” Shepard asked.

“Siha,” he said, signifying that this was again a personal request rather than a professional one. He hadn’t told her yet what the name meant but she couldn’t deny enjoying the way it sounded on his lips. 

“Yes, Sere?” she responded, slipping far more easily into the role he expected of her than she would have anticipated a few weeks ago. She never knew what to expect from him. Sometimes he wanted to get rough and play. Sometimes he simply wanted her to sit at his feet while he read—and she’d begun to suspect that those were as much to force her to rest as anything since both times he’d done it had been after a particularly long run such as Tuchanka—and once he’d shown her how to prepare his tea and had instructed her to make him a cup and a bowl of the fruit he liked before dismissing her. 

She wasn’t surprised to discover that she enjoyed serving him. She was a caretaker by nature and this was simply an extension of that. What she was surprised to learn was how much she liked the pain. She’d never considered herself a masochist until she’d started to play with him. It didn’t seem to matter if it was biting or flogging or whips or rough sex or his hand around her throat, she liked it. It also didn’t seem to matter if there was sex involved at all. He hadn’t fucked her the night he’d flogged and whipped her. She had expected it but he had simply woken her when he was ready to sleep and sent her to her cabin, still riding one of the most massive endorphin rushes of her life. She could admit that she’d loved it and hoped that he did it again. It was one of the higher items on his list so she thought there was a good chance that he would. 

“Kneel,” he said and she moved to his side and obeyed. He had his hands clasped on the table and appeared to be meditating. She thought that she’d interrupted him and realized that she was right when he ran a hand over her hair to acknowledge her and then returned to it. She gave a mental shrug and sat back on her heels in the position he’d taught her. He didn’t demand her attention when they were like this, so she let her mind wander. 

She had anticipated some difficulty in transitioning between roles given that they required a complete reversal from work to personal but he’d proven skilled at doing so. He was never particularly subservient anyway. His arm might be hers but it was more like having a tiger on a leash than anything else. He did what she told him to do but there was always the knowledge that he could turn and rip her throat out. She didn’t own him so much as she directed him. 

In a way, he reminded her of her rifle. Her Widow—which she’d named Eleanor—shot what she directed it to shoot but it did not change its function or methods to do so. It did exactly what she wanted it to do as long as she handled it on its terms. If she attempted to treat it like any other sniper rifle, it would annihilate her shoulder even with her heavy bone and muscle weaves. But if she respected it and handled it the way it needed to be handled, Eleanor would never let her down. Thane was very similar, actually. 

Sere Krios was not. It wasn’t that he let her down. It was simply that she never knew what to expect. She could anticipate Eleanor or Thane. She could not anticipate the man he became when she gave him control. He maintained a strict distance between them. She was expected to tell him everything that did not involve other crewmembers—he never used his position to invade their privacy or put her in a position of having to choose between him and their confidence—but he told her very little. He revealed himself more when they spoke as commander and crew than he did at these times. If she had been expecting anything similar to any relationship she’d had in the past, she’d learned quickly to change her expectations.

Even with the walls he placed between them, she was growing closer to him. She knew he didn’t feel the same, of course, but it was difficult to be so open with someone and to do the things they did without forming some kind of attachment and she’d come to care about him even before they’d begun this arrangement. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted to please him. She craved the praise he gave freely and dreaded his disappointment. 

He never grew angry, even when she slipped up and addressed him the wrong way or failed to perform a task he’d set to his specifications. Anger she could have handled. His quiet disappointment went to her soul. He generally didn’t even have to punish her. The mere downward flicker of his brows was enough to tell her she’d displeased him and she didn’t repeat her error. He corrected a mistake the first time it was made and, as she had yet to repeat one outside of occasionally using his name during sex which he generally chose to correct as she was usually past the point of rational thought by then, he didn’t need to punish unless he chose to do so for his own amusement, which was rare. 

She let her eyes close as she drifted on the hum of the drive core and felt the vibrations of the ship in her legs. She liked this. These quiet moments made her feel more connected to both her ship and to him. She couldn’t describe the feeling that she got when she knelt for him. The first time he’d ordered her to do it, she’d hesitated and had felt a flash of anger. She was Commander Shepard. She didn’t kneel for anyone. But she’d obeyed and he’d run his fingers through her hair and allowed her to lean her forehead against his knee. That alone had been reward enough that she had not hesitated the next time. He rarely allowed her to touch him and she never asked anymore but when she was on her knees, he seemed to soften a bit. He wasn’t overly affectionate but there was more than he gave her any time other than after they’d played together.

She opened her eyes to find him watching her with an inscrutable expression. He said, “You look at peace, Siha.”

“I am,” she said.

“Tell me about Alchera,” he said.

With a single word, every bit of calm she’d found vanished and she felt herself tense. She didn’t like thinking about Alchera. She didn’t like remembering her own death or considering the time in which she’d been dead, the lost years of her life when everyone she’d known had changed until they were almost unrecognizable. _She_ had changed until she almost didn’t recognize herself and she couldn’t even remember being dead. 

He was waiting for a response, so she said, “I was asleep in my cabin. It was on the crew deck back then, where Miranda’s office is now. I woke to the sound of alarms signaling an attack. My armor locker was beside the med bay in the mess hall and I ran out and dressed. It was new armor. We’d gotten the shipment in the last time we’d docked at the Citadel only a couple of weeks before and I’d only worn it twice. By the time I’d dressed, the ship was burning. The smoke was beginning to build and I could hear Joker over the comms trying to call for help. I grabbed my helmet and ran down the passage to the area that’s now the main battery and got the distress beacon ready for launch. Liara ran up as I was putting my helmet on and informed me that evacuations had begun but Joker was refusing to leave. I sent her to finish getting everyone out and went for Joker.”

He listened as she described the disorienting dash across the crew deck and crossing the bridge with its jagged holes like crooked teeth threatening to devour her overhead. She told him about coaxing Joker out and finally getting him into the pod as the Collector beam hit again. She hesitated before describing being thrown away from the pod and straining to reach the launch control that would send the pilot to safety without her. “I didn’t realize at the time just how close to Alchera we still were,” she said. “He’d just discharged the drive core and we hadn’t yet made it very far from atmo. I thought…I thought that if the Alliance got there quickly enough, the air in my suit would last until rescue came. I thought I could make it if I was just calm enough and patient enough. And then the seal ruptured. It was a brand new suit and the seals ruptured. It had to be a factory mistake. If we’d used the breathers on any of our previous missions, one of the others would have been there and could have patched it. I’d have switched back to my old exo-suit which I knew was still good and I might have survived. Of course, I might also have burned to death on entry. In a way, suffocating was probably kinder.”

“Was it painful?” he asked and she wondered if he was considering his own mortality.

“At first,” she said. “And then it was…euphoric.”

“And the state of death itself?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t remember. My vision went dark over Alchera and then I was on my back on a table and monitors were racing and everything hurt. Oh, gods, did everything hurt. And Miranda and another guy were talking. She leaned over me and said something and then the next thing I knew, she was shouting at me to get up because the station was under attack. Maybe there’s no afterlife. Maybe it’s just nothing. Maybe my soul or whatever didn’t go anywhere because I was going to be brought back. Maybe it did and I just don’t remember it. I don’t know.”

“The aftermath?” he asked.

She looked down at her hands on her knees and said, “I think I understand what you mean when you talk about being disconnected. I’ve largely just been going through the motions. You, this, woke me up but I still don’t feel like I did before. I wonder sometimes if I’m really me or if I’m a clone or some kind of VI that thinks it’s Commander Shepard. People don’t come back from the dead, right? That doesn’t really happen. And everyone just accepts it. It’s enough to make me think sometimes that I didn’t really wake up, that all of this actually is the afterlife and I’m stuck in some kind of limbo where I think I’m alive and I’m not.”

His lips quirked slightly and he said, “You are alive, Siha. This is real.”

“You would say that, though,” she countered, “if you were a figment of my imagination.”

“I suppose that might be true,” he conceded. “What will you do about it?”

“Treat it like it is real,” she said. “I can’t afford to do otherwise. And it’s only occasionally that I truly begin to wonder if I’m dead. I don’t think I would have imagined the changes in Garrus and Tali and Liara. I don’t think I could have made you up if I tried.” She allowed a hint of a grin to appear on her features and he tipped his head in agreement.


	6. Chapter 6

Her thoughts were so occupied with musings of life and death and Alchera and thoughts of Pressly and Jenkins and Ash that she was completely unprepared when his hand fisted in her hair and he pulled her roughly between his knees. A flash of green fingers had his leather pants open and he ordered, “Clasp your hands behind your back on your elbows and pleasure me with your mouth, Siha.”

When she tried to move forward to get her knees under her, he stopped her with his feet, leaving her physically and metaphorically off-balance. She was forced to lean forward at an awkward angle with her hands behind her back and only his hand in her hair and the tension in her core to steady her. He liked her this way, she knew, so she went with it.

She really liked his cock. It was thick and smooth, lacking the scales that covered the rest of his body. The green and black of his skin was muted here and swirled up from the base in twisting patterns. Where a human’s testicles would be was another patch of the red ribbing that covered his throat. She’d learned that it was particularly sensitive and that he really enjoyed it when she was able to angle her body to rub against it. She wondered if she could take him deep enough in her mouth to lick it. 

He relaxed slightly when her tongue trailed over his shaft, tracing the swirling lines and ridges from his thick base to the blunted head but didn’t otherwise react. It was difficult to read him when he was like this. His face gave nothing away and his silence left little to read. His hand in her hair was the only signal she got but she’d learned to interpret the subtle tension in his fingers, the slight flex of his thighs through the leather, the inaudible hitches in his breathing. Once in a while, if she did something particularly right, he would reward her with a small groan. 

She took him into her mouth and began to work him, hoping to reach the base so that she could utilize that patch of red and, perhaps, get to hear one of those groans she liked so much. “Touch yourself,” he said and her eyes flashed up to his. This wasn’t a limit but it also wasn’t something she did in front of people. She didn’t think of it as old-fashioned so much as tacky and rude as, in her mind, it implied that her partner was unable to please her on his own. He’d made it a command, though, so she released one of her elbows and opened her slacks enough to allow her to slide her hand down the front. She was unsurprised to find herself already wet and slick. He tended to have that effect on her. 

She began to tease herself while continuing to please him and let herself moan around his shaft. His hand flexed and so she did it again. She worked both him and herself until she was rocking into her own hand, helplessly chasing pleasure that she knew he wouldn’t yet grant. Unlike a human male, he was capable of multiple orgasms and had no qualms about making her wait until he’d come at least once. 

He rose, shoving her back onto her heels, and used her hair to hold her still as he took control. She allowed her jaw to relax and then forced it to do so as he began to thrust deeper. Her throat threatened to close and she focused on relaxing that as well and accepting his girth without gagging on it. Her entire world narrowed down to that one point of contact and the growing ache between her legs. He pushed deep, sinking into her throat, and held himself there. She looked at him with growing fear as her lungs began unsuccessfully attempting to draw in air. He raised a brow ridge and she looked at him in confusion. She didn’t know what he wanted. She needed to breathe. Alchera was too close, the memory of suffocation too painful, and she began to panic in earnest. She tried to pull back but he held her. She wasn’t allowed to touch him. She couldn’t use her safeword. She was beginning to panic.

“Did I tell you to stop touching yourself?” he asked.

Her eyes grew wider as she realized that he was doing this because her fingers had paused as she had focused on taking him in. _Fuck this_ , she thought wildly. She didn’t give a shit if he didn’t like to be touched. She didn’t care what the rules were. She reached up and bent one of his fingers back to release her hair as her elbow made contact with his knee. He left her mouth with a pop—and should have been grateful she hadn’t decided to just bite down—and she summoned a weak throw that was still enough to take him off guard for a change as it was the last thing he’d expected. Very few people knew that she had any biotic ability at all as her exposure had come after birth and she’d never trained with it. He hit the bulkhead and she leapt to her feet, still clear enough of mind to remember to fasten her pants before she spun on her heel. 

“Siha, stop!” he ordered.

“Go fuck yourself,” she replied and stormed out. She went to the main battery and stuck her head in. “Garrus, shuttle bay. Now.”

He turned and gave her an impatient look that morphed into something else when he saw her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Are you coming or not?” she demanded.

“I’m coming,” he said and followed her without further question. 

Thane came out of the Life Support room, looking for all the world as if nothing had happened, and caught her eye. She ignored the quick jerk of his head ordering her back into the room and slammed a fist against the control for the lift. He walked over to her and she growled, “Thane Krios, if you place that hand on me, you will pull back a bloody stump.” She knew that he could take her in a fight on a normal day but this was not a normal day and he seemed to recognize it. Wisely, he retreated.

Garrus gave a sound akin to a whistle once the lift closed and said, “What’d he do? Do we need to kill him? We can always toss him out the airlock. If we get everybody together, I think we can take him.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she gritted out between clenched teeth. 

“What do you want, then?” he asked.

“A fight,” she answered. 

“I can do that,” he said.

They went to the center of the shuttle bay where a mat was already laid out. She’d instituted a sparring policy after Garrus had told her about the practice on turian ships. Some of the crew utilized it but she and Thane had been the most common lately. She pushed that thought out of her mind as she turned and crouched, waiting for Garrus to remove his armor. He stripped down to his undersuit and took on a predatory stance that made her blood sing in anticipation. He was one of the few who could actually compete with her in hand to hand and who she didn’t have to worry about killing when she was in a mood like this.

They circled each other but she didn’t have the patience to let him come to her as she usually did. He anticipated it and dodged her blow. If he was surprised that she didn’t pull her punch, he didn’t show it. He simply swept out with his foot and she leapt over it before dodging to the side to avoid his fist. He caught her roundhouse kick and threw her back. She caught his hand and pulled herself—he was too heavy even for her—in to land a blow on his mandible. He shook it off and she took a knee to the side before she was able to dance away.

He had reach but it worked against him once she was in close. The trick was getting past his defenses to do so and that was no easy feat. He didn’t hold back, going so far as to break out the talons on one particular swipe after she’d kicked him in the spur. A low blow deserved a low blow and she took the slices to her hip in stride. He seemed startled that she’d taken it and she got the impression that he’d done it more to get her back than with the intention of actually cutting her. She used his momentary distraction to dart in and land a flurry of blows on his chest, collar, and chin. He caught her fists and headbutted her. 

“You’ve been sparring with Grunt,” she said, hopping back and rubbing her forehead. 

“No,” he said. “I just took note of your technique on Tuchanka.”

“That asshole deserved it,” she said, landing a kick to his waist that had him doubling over even as he rushed her. 

“Didn’t say he didn’t,” he said as he elbowed her in the face. “You ready to talk about it yet?”

“None of your business, Vakarian,” she answered, popping him in the mandible again. She made sure to keep her blows off of the injured side of her face. They were sparring, after all, and he wasn’t the one she was furious with. 

“When I’m taking the beating he earned, it seems like it is,” he pointed out, landing an uppercut to her jaw that snapped her teeth together. 

“It’s personal, Garrus,” she growled. “Don’t push.” 

He stunned her by grabbing her shoulders and slamming her into a crate. He held her there, looking down at her, and said, “I just want to know that you’re all right, okay? He didn’t, ah, force himself or anything, right?”

She softened, her anger gone in the wake of his concern, and said, “No. He pushed something too far is all. I’m fine. I’m just…angry.”

“You’ve got that Alchera look in your eyes,” he said, echoing something she’d said once about him having an Omega look.

“Yeah,” she said.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“I will be,” she said. 

She expected him to release her. Instead, he pulled her against him in a tight hug. “I’m here if you need me. You know that, right?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she returned the embrace. Something threatened to break loose inside of her and she clung more tightly than she meant to. It had been so long since she’d just been held and been allowed to hold in return. She felt…safe. “I know,” she said. “You always are. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You won’t have to find out,” he said. 

She stepped back with more reluctance than she cared to admit and said, “Thanks, Garrus. I needed that.”

He slung an arm around her shoulder and steered her to the lift. “Any time, Shepard.”


	7. Chapter 7

She dropped him at the crew deck and went up to her cabin to shower. Thane was waiting when she came out and she crossed her arms and stared at him in disbelief. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Siha,” he began and when she glowered at him, said, “Shepard. I wish to apologize. I did not intend harm and yet it is clear that is what I have caused. I would like to speak with you if you are willing.”

“What do you want, Thane?” she asked sharply.

“To know where I erred,” he said.

“Huh,” she said in a voice dripping venom, “I don’t know. Bringing up Alchera, making me talk about it, making me remember, and then choking me with your cock because I forgot I had hands for a minute. And here I’d just been thinking about how you didn’t punish me. As far as first ones go, that was a fucking doozy. Or did you just do it because you’re that much of a sadist? Did you have that one planned the whole time?”

“Oh, Shepard,” he said, sounding absolutely horrified. “I beg your forgiveness. I will fall on my knees if you wish. I did not…Shepard, Siha, I swear to you that I did not do that intentionally. I am entirely at fault in this. I knew that you had suffocated. I should have anticipated that breath play would come with limits that you might not recognize until the moment. I should have discussed that with you before ever attempting it. The pieces simply did not connect. I was…caught up in you. It was not my intention to cause you that kind of distress and for that I am truly, deeply sorry.”

There was more honest emotion on his face than she had ever seen before and she could almost picture him falling to his knees in front of her as he did once with Irikah. That image alone was enough to both ease her anger and make her hope that he never did that with her. He already compared her to his dead wife often enough that she wondered at times if she was just a stand-in. They had apparently been very similar. She wasn’t exactly jealous of the dead woman. She simply didn’t want any more connections made between them in his mind. She had no problem with him having had another life before he’d met her. She did, however, want to stand out on her own merit rather than on Irikah’s.

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” she said, making it almost a question rather than a statement.

“I vow to Arashu herself that I did not,” he said. “Siha, please forgive me. I will never do that again. We will never speak of Alchera unless you choose to do so of your own volition and I will never again restrict your breathing.”

“I like your hand around my throat,” she said. “I just don’t like not being able to breathe. And do not _ever_ use that or anything like it as a punishment against me again even if it is meant to be a lighthearted one.”

He approached her hesitantly and paused before touching her. When she didn’t pull away, he tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear and said, “I promise you I will never do that again. I do not want you to be afraid of me. I would never intentionally harm you, Siha. It is my duty to protect you.”

“I forgive you,” she said after a long moment. “Everyone makes mistakes. Even you.”

“If you ever are unable to speak and need to use your safeword, tap my leg or some other point on my body,” he said. “You may touch me at any time without restriction in order to draw my attention for something pertaining to your safety.”

She grimaced and said, “How’s your hand?”

“I am fine, Siha. I did not realize you were a biotic,” he said.

“I’m not,” she said. “Not really. Secondary exposure as a child. I have an implant but never wear the amp because I never learned to control it and it’s so weak even with the amp that it’s useless in a fight. I was only able to do that because I was so…upset.”

“In fear for your life,” he corrected. “You may say it. You were never truly in danger but you perceived it as such and rightfully so. I would like to make it up to you if I may.”

“What do you want?” she asked warily.

“Aftercare,” he said. “We both need it. I need to give and you need to receive.”

“All right,” she said. She liked aftercare. It was the only time that this felt like a relationship rather than strictly an exchange.

“Thank you,” he said and tugged her towel away. He lifted her and said, “You may put your arms around my shoulders.”

She did, marveling at the strength in them, and he carried her to the bed and laid her back. He gently removed her hands from his shoulders and placed them above her head. “Hold them there, Siha,” he said softly and ran his hands down her arms. He framed her face with them and brushed his lips over her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her chin. When she thought he would take her lips, he moved instead to her throat, kissing and licking with almost painful tenderness. 

He was slow and patient as he explored her body in a way that he had not before. He learned where to touch to make her sigh, how to make her gasp, what to do to bring her arching off of the bed. His teeth scraped lightly over her hipbones and she almost reached for him. She caught herself in time and returned her hands to their place. He let that slip and trailed his lips across her abdomen before moving to her legs. Her thighs fell apart when he took them in his hands and ran his lips up the inside. She was writhing now, begging silently for him to ease the ache he’d built between her legs. Her anger was completely gone now, swept up in this tide that felt like he truly cared.

His tongue was smoother and cooler than a human’s but exquisitely talented as he licked and nipped and suckled her. “You may come as you wish,” he murmured against her, the vibrations going straight to her core. She did when his tongue swept over her and again when his fingers entered her. By the time he moved up her body and entered her, she was trembling. He took his time here as well, holding back his own pleasure until she had obtained hers once more. Only then did he pursue their joint release. When it was over, he drew her into his arms with her back to his front and wrapped his arms around her. It was the closest to cuddling as they’d ever come and he held her until she fell asleep but he was gone when she woke the following morning.


	8. Chapter 8

“Want me to go down with you?” Garrus asked as Shepard stared down at the breather helmet in her hand and tried to fight the fear slinking up the back of her throat like bile. She had run missions in this suit. She knew the breather worked. She’d checked and rechecked the seals and Tali had spent a day taking it apart, cleaning them, and replacing any that looked questionable. That made her feel more confident than her own work. If there was one thing Tali was better with than ship engines, it was suit seals. That didn’t shake her unease. She was about to be going down to Alchera, alone, in a breather to place a monument and search for the bodies of her dead crew. 

“No,” she said. She needed to do it alone. She needed to face this fear and she’d been putting it off for far too long. 

“Are you sure, Shepard?” he asked. “They were my people, too.”

“Come on, Garrus,” she scoffed. “You haven’t said a word about it before now. At least Tali still talks about them. If I was going to go with anyone, it would be her. You forgot us and I get it. I do. You had your own team that you lost. But these were mine.”

“I don’t talk about it because I don’t want to bring up painful memories,” he said. “I didn’t forget them. Spirits, Shepard. I mourned you for two years. I mourned them, too. Losing my team is just…it’s different. I served with the old _Normandy_ crew. I didn’t lead them. I just thought you’d want someone who understands what you’re going through and who cared about them, too, by your side for this.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Garrus. That was uncalled for. I’m on edge. I don’t want to do this but it needs to be done. I have to do this for them. I just…need to do it alone. You can come in the shuttle if you want, though. I might need a hand with the monument and you’re right. It was yours, too.”

“Call Tali,” he suggested. “She’ll want to come down, too.”

She went out alone and collected the dog tags. It didn’t seem right to move them. They were frozen into the ground and she wasn’t willing to risk further damage to them. Besides, it almost looked as if the _Normandy_ was keeping watch over them in penance for having failed them in life. She knelt down beside each of them and said her goodbyes. She apologized for failing them as well, though it felt empty. _I’ll avenge you,_ she vowed.

Tali and Garrus helped her place the monument by the hull where the ship’s name was written. There were other places that might have fit but each of those seemed to belong more to one person than another. The fractured galaxy map was Pressly’s. The cockpit had been Joker’s. The shuttle bay had belonged to Garrus, Ash, Kaidan, Tali, and Adams. The _Normandy_ herself, though, had belonged to all of them. 

They broke off after the monument was placed. She gave them time before seeking them out again. She found Tali by the remains of the drive core as she’d expected and Garrus standing near the intact-looking Mako. He looked over at her when she approached and said, “Why am I not surprised that this thing’s still here? It survived you. Of course it could survive anything. Damn, the hours I spent fixing that vehicle after you banged it to hell and back.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” she protested.

“Your driving was awful,” Tali said. “The one thing I am grateful to Cerberus for—apart from bringing you back, of course—is the shuttle. I lost count of how many times you almost killed us!”

“We had some good times,” Garrus said wistfully.

“We can have more,” Shepard said. “You just have to drag your ass out of the battery once in a while.” She was glad that they were here. She had needed the time alone on the planet but it was nice to have them here, the two who’d been with her through it all before and had come back for more. 

___

Shepard bolted upright in her bed, rubbing her eyes over her face to block out the view of the stars above her. She generally liked looking out the windows at the expanse of space around them but it was hard to deal with after the nightmare. She fought to control her breathing as she planted her feet on the floor and rested her elbows on her knees. Alchera had affected her more deeply than she’d realized. The dream came almost every night but it usually came only once and then she was able to sleep. This was the third time she’d woken from it with her heart racing and her breathing ragged in her ears. 

She didn’t want to be alone up here so she padded from the cabin on bare feet. It was late in the night cycle. Most of the crew would be asleep but maybe there would be someone who usually worked the night shift and was off duty who was still awake. The ship was never truly asleep. She didn’t care at this point who it was, she just wanted someone living to help her shake this feeling of being surrounded by ghosts. She decided to go down to the crew deck. Maybe a cup of tea would help calm her down enough that she could sleep and if anyone was still up, they’d be in the mess hall. 

It was empty when she arrived. The locks were active on Thane, Samara, and Miranda’s quarters. The med bay was blacked out. She went to the galley and prepared a mug of tea and a plate of Gardner’s leftover lasagna from earlier that day and took a seat alone at the table. When she finished eating, she was still restless and didn’t want to go back up to her empty cabin where she had only Pip for company. Even her fish were gone because she’d forgotten to feed them again and had decided against buying more. 

The door to Life Support drew her. She knew that she could enter despite the lock. EDI would override any of them on her command but she’d never done it. She glanced at the door to the lounge. Kasumi wouldn’t mind if she went in and had a drink and the little thief slept like the dead. Kasumi also didn’t lock her door in concession to the presence of the bar. She exhibited a surprising amount of trust in the crew not to steal her stolen goods. Or, perhaps, she welcomed the challenge of stealing them back. 

Shepard slipped in and poured a shot of whiskey. She was quiet even if she was unlikely to wake Kasumi. It seemed rude to risk it. So she downed the shot and the next and returned the bottle to the shelf. She certainly wasn’t going to wake Thane to ask permission for more. He would likely forgive her if she went to him in the morning, admitted to having a third, and explained her reasoning but she didn’t want to risk it. The soldier in her couldn’t abide by the thought of breaking a direct order without better cause than restlessness. He might forgive her. She wouldn’t forgive herself. 

She paused by his door, looking at the red lock. She felt vaguely like a child standing outside a parent’s door after a bad dream, wanting to go in and be comforted but uncertain of her welcome. She turned away and wandered back into the mess hall. She might as well make a cup of coffee since it seemed that she would be up regardless. She could use the time to work on some of the letters she needed to write. She hadn’t yet written to the families of her dead crew. She would do so and give them to Anderson along with the dog tags she’d collected.

The green lock on the door to the main battery caught her eye and she hesitated. Garrus would understand. He was probably still up calibrating. Talking to someone might help calm her down enough to sleep. Discarding the idea of coffee, she strode down the passage and entered. The room was dark and he wasn’t at the terminal. His cot was tucked in between the bulkhead and the cannon and he sat up slightly as the door opened and reached for his pistol. He stopped when he saw her. “Shepard?” he asked groggily. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“Wait,” he said as she turned to go. “It’s all right. Can’t sleep?” She shook her head and he patted the side of the cot. “Come on. Tell me about it.”

She sat down after a moment of hesitation and said, “I have nightmares.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said. “Want to talk about them?”

“Not really,” she said. “It’s just…it won’t stop tonight. I didn’t mean to bother you. I just didn’t want to be alone.”

“Lie down,” he said, tugging gently on her elbow. “I’m going to bruise my fringe trying to look up at you and I’m too tired to sit up.” When she hesitated, he gave her a look that still managed to be wry despite the relative immobility of his face. “Come on, Shepard. I’m dressed. You’re dressed. It’s not like you haven’t fallen asleep on me before.” 

He had a point. She’d fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder in the shuttle more than once and a few times in the Mako when Kaidan had managed to wrangle himself into the driver’s seat before she could get there. She laid back and he slid an arm under her neck and pulled her in to his chest. His talons ran lightly over her upper arm and she said, “I always thought you slept in your armor.”

“I do sometimes,” he said. “If we’re in hostile territory. But it needed to be cleaned. It reeked after all that methane on Alchera.”

“Mine, too,” she said. “Poor Tali. I bet it’s a bitch to clean that suit.”

“Probably,” he agreed. “How do you think she does it? Does she just get in the shower with it on or something?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a yawn. “I’ve never asked.”

“She probably mentioned it at some point in some elevator or another and we just toned her out,” he said.

“I listened,” Shepard insisted. 

“I didn’t,” he said. He shifted, drawing her closer, and his other arm draped across her ribcage. “This all right?” he asked. “I don’t want to crush you but this cot’s not really designed for two.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m surprised we fit at all.” Cots designed for turians and krogan were larger to accommodate their different frames but, while his was a bit wider than one designed for humanoid races, the main difference was in the length. 

“You tuck up under my keel,” he said, giving a yawn of his own. His row of sharp teeth sparkled in the faint glow of the terminal, reminding her that he was a predator by design. “You’re like another pillow. Kick me if I crush you.”

“You’re so warm,” she said, laying her own arm over him. “I never feel warm anymore.”

He reached over and moved it higher on his chest, away from his waist. “Not there,” he said and tucked her head into his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind the coldness of her feet and she sighed loudly when he let her put them against his legs. She’d never been this close to him and he felt strange, harder than what she was used to and much warmer than Thane or a human, but it was a comfortable difference. Again, that feeling of safety wrapped around her with his arms and she drifted off into sleep.

He woke her in the morning with a gentle shake of her shoulder. She mumbled a protest and moved closer, seeking out the comforting warmth of another body. It had been years since she’d woken up beside someone and…oh. “Sorry,” she muttered, drawing away. 

“It’s all right,” he said. “I might have woken up with my face buried in your hair.”

“Good thing I took a shower,” she said, pushing said hair out of her eyes as she sat up. “What time is it?”

“The crew will start moving around in about an hour,” he said. “I thought you might not want them thinking you were doing the walk of shame from the turian’s quarters. Thane will be up in about half an hour.”

“He won’t care,” she said. “But it does look a bit disrespectful if you don’t know why I was here. Thanks, Garrus. I haven’t slept that well in months.”

“Any time, Shepard. I told you I was here if you needed me,” he said, standing and rubbing his neck. She yawned and stretched, missing the way his eyes went to her midriff when her shirt rose up with the motion. By the time her eyes opened again, he was retrieving his armor from the cleaning unit. 

“Going to Pragia today,” she said. “Jack says it rains a lot. I don’t want to make Thane deal with the humidity. Want to be our third?”

“Sure,” he said. “I like big explosions.”

She grinned at him and left, stopping by the galley to make a cup of coffee to take with her to her cabin. The lock on Thane’s door was still red and she looked from it to the main battery and back. It said something that she’d felt more confident about going to her best friend than her…whatever he was…when she’d needed comfort. It said something else that Garrus had given it freely when she knew almost for a fact that Thane would not have. Damned if she wanted to think about it, though.


	9. Chapter 9

Shepard felt vaguely guilty as she opened the dossier on Thane, as though she was prying into something she had no right to and never mind that she wouldn’t hesitate with the others. She did it anyway, telling herself that she was looking as his commanding officer and not as his…whatever she was. She’d honestly expected things like the record of his kills and wondered what the One-Hour Massacre on Omega was. She hadn’t expected his medical records. She knew that she was violating his privacy then and was about to back out when something caught her eye. _Viable transplant candidate but refused to be added to list._ Her hand froze and she stared down at it, stunned.

He’d refused a transplant that could extend his life. Even with Kolyat, he had turned it down. That, more than anything, drove home the reality of her situation. She understood enough of the concept of his afterlife to know that he expected to find his wife waiting for him at the sea. He had the rest of eternity to spend with Irikah. He had mere months left with her if the doctor’s report was to be believed. Rather than choosing to give her even a little bit more of his limited time, he was just going to allow himself to die to be with his wife that much sooner. She was nothing more than a stand-in to him. 

So many things suddenly made sense. His distance, his lack of affection, his tendency to remember Irikah at inopportune moments. She knew from his memories that he didn’t dislike touch as he’d told her. He’d recalled enough to tell her that he’d enjoyed having his wife’s hand in his, her tongue in his mouth, her head on his chest, sleeping beside her, waking up to her, the myriad little touches that a real couple indulged themselves in on a daily basis. He’d had a similar arrangement with Irikah to what he had with her but it had been based in love, not sex and the memory of another. He liked being touched. He just didn’t want to be touched by _her_. 

She was quiet on the shuttle back to the ship. If Thane thought it odd, he didn’t mention it. He did order her to meet him when she was free from her duties and she considered declining. They needed to talk. Maybe she was misunderstanding the situation. Maybe she just needed to tell him her suspicions and that she felt unwanted. Maybe if she told him, things would change. She cared about him, more than she should. She didn’t want to let him go but she had enough self-respect to be unwilling to play his living doll while he pretended he was with the one that he truly wanted. If that was what was happening, she needed to know and to end this.

“You requested me, Sere?” she said, playing the game for what could be the last time. 

“Sit,” he said and gestured to the seat across from him. When she took it, he said, “I would like to try something new with you, something that could potentially be…troublesome and which will require a deal of trust on your part.”

Her curiosity was piqued. She put aside her concerns. He was more open after play anyway and she thought that would be the time when she was most likely to catch him with his guard if not down then lowered a bit. And, she reasoned, if this was to end, it would at least give her one last time with him. She still wanted him though the sex had been less and less satisfying lately. Not being allowed to touch him, especially after listening to his memories of Irikah doing so, had begun to grate on her even before she read the dossier. It took away from much of her enjoyment.

Additionally, she was able to admit, Garrus had unwittingly sparked something in her with his newfound physical comfort around her. He’d always stood close to her as turians tended to have smaller personal bubbles than most races and he’d been the only one comfortable enough with her to throw an arm around her shoulders as they left a bar or to playfully lean an elbow on her shoulders as a way to accentuate their height difference but even that had only started shortly before she’d died and had never extended to things like hugs. She’d been comfortable enough to sleep against him on the shuttle but only recently would she have been willing to sleep in his bed the way she had. She had gotten a taste of what it was like to be able to freely touch someone she cared about and to have that comfort of arms around her when she needed it. She felt safer in his arms than she did in Thane’s and that should not be true. 

“What are you proposing?” she asked.

“Consensual non-consent,” he said. “I would like to gain your consent to violate it in a way while remaining within your set limits.”

“You…want to pretend to force me?” she asked warily.

“I want to hunt and capture you,” he answered. “And, when I do, yes, I would like you to put up at least a token resistance.”

She considered it. That could be fun and exciting. Thane was an excellent hunter and she did appreciate feeling like his prey at times. And, if she was allowed to fight him, then that meant she could touch him. Hell, he might even let her continue after she conceded as a reward. “All right,” she said. He laid out his plan and she agreed. Let the games begin.

She waited until late in the night cycle when everyone would be asleep and enlisted EDI’s help in ensuring that they didn’t scandalize some poor crewman. She also made it clear that unless she specifically instructed EDI to get Garrus, the AI was to disregard any appeals for help, mercy, or for him to stop. She didn’t want EDI to accidentally send help if Shepard got too into it and Garrus was the only one she could think of who could both take Thane if he got too into it and not be completely traumatized at the sight. 

She knew he’d been stalking her as she’d gone about her day. She could sense him and it built the feeling of being hunted. It gave her a thrill of excitement as she knew he was objectively better than she was. She had her cloak but he didn’t need one. He could vanish into shadow. She grinned ferally as she left the cabin and went down to the crew deck. She prepared a cup of coffee and leaned up against the counter to drink it as she allowed her senses to flare into the battle-readiness that gave her an extra edge in the field. She wasn’t going to run and let him chase her. She was going on the hunt, too.

He was watching her. She peered into the shadows, letting her vision unfocus slightly so that she would be more likely to pick up on a line or curve that was out of place. He wasn’t there. She turned her attention to the overhead. He preferred high ground but she was a sniper. She was trained to look up for threats, something that humans rarely did past childhood. He knew that, though, so she went to the hatch beneath the stairs leading to the main battery and slipped into the subdeck. He wouldn’t expect her to take the low ground. She activated her cloak and made her way slowly through.

He was good. He allowed her glimpses of his shadow or a flash of green or the scrape of a boot to let her know that he was there but it was a threat as much as a help. She knew her ship but she rarely spent time crawling through subdecks and he clearly knew this area better than she did. She wondered how much time he spent sliding unseen around the vessel while everyone thought he was meditating in Life Support. He would be ahead of her one moment and behind the next. She thought she’d cornered him at one point but he was gone. Up, then, she decided. Or…no. 

She found the ladder in the AI core and took it down to engineering. This was a bit riskier as Grunt and Jack would be more likely to notice them and there was always the possibility that Zaeed had more cameras down here but her cloak came in handy once more and she went unnoticed by anyone she didn’t want to see her. She felt hands close around her neck and he whispered, “You are dead, Siha. Try again.” When she turned, he was gone again. Damn, he was good.

She decided to do the unexpected and took the lift. Well, she told EDI to hold it and took the elevator shaft. The shuttle bay, she decided. That was where he would go next. He wanted to draw her away from the others or he’d have taken her in engineering. The crates stacked around the bay would provide plenty of cover for both of them. 

She got close a time or two as their game of cat and mouse drew to its inevitable conclusion. She almost had him before he threw a warp past her head, making her dodge, and vanished again. When he did finally drop down behind her and wrap a hand around her throat and another around her waist, she had no warning. She threw her head back in an attempt to catch his nose or chin as she reached for the back of his neck to throw him over her shoulder. He rolled back, taking her with him, and applied more pressure. He stopped just short of cutting off her air, remaining within her limits as he’d promised, and pinned her on her belly. She rose up in an attempt to buck him off and felt the cool kiss of metal against her abdomen. “I would not advise that,” he growled in her ear. She looked down and saw the knife in his hand.

He wouldn’t harm her and she’d agreed to knife play, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected but did have the desired effect. She went still. His hand glowed and she felt the stasis freeze her in place. He carried her easily to the lift and up to her cabin. Once inside, he locked the door and ran his hands down her body. She could feel it but could not move. He stripped her of her clothing and stepped back, presumably to remove his own, before releasing her. She turned, swinging a fist, and he threw her back into the fish tank. 

“EDI, call security!” she ordered and Thane’s eyes widened. This hadn’t been part of the plan.

“I cannot do that, Commander,” EDI said. “I have been given strict instructions which I must follow.” That they were her instructions didn’t take away from the mood of the moment. 

Thane’s lip quirked in approval before he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the bed. “Damn it, Krios, let me go!” she shouted. Sere would be inappropriate here and they both knew that she would use his first name if she was giving him a real order. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking what you know we both want,” he purred. “You waste your time resisting and fool no one. I have seen the way you look at me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied. “Let me go and we’ll talk about this.”

“The time for talk is past,” he said, throwing her onto the bed. She drew up a foot and planted it against his chest, pushing him back. She rolled to the side and he caught her by the ankle, pulling her into him. She shoved at his shoulders and then her nails were digging into them as his tongue slid up the side of her throat and his teeth nipped her jaw. “Your body betrays you, Commander.” 

“Don’t,” she said but her voice was a whisper. 

“I will,” he said and used his knees to pin her thighs apart as his fingers dipped between her legs. Her body arched, pressing further into his hand while pushing weakly at his shoulders once more. His fingers slipped inside as he pulled her head back by the hair. “You want me, Commander. Admit it.”

“I don’t, Krios,” she said on a moan. 

“You lie to yourself as well as to me,” he said, trailing his lips across her jaw. “You are so wet for me.”

“Natural…reaction,” she gasped. His mouth had closed around her nipple and his teeth scraped lightly against it, making her groan. Her arms slipped around his neck and finally, finally this felt like an activity she was a participant in rather than something that was done to her. How odd that this should be the moment she discovered it. 

It didn’t last long. He released her hair to capture her wrists and pin them above her head. Disappointment pierced sharply through her as her hopes died. “I don’t want to fuck someone I can’t touch, Krios,” she said, letting the role speak her truth. 

“Where did you get the idea that you had the choice, Commander?” he asked, unperturbed. 

“You swore your arm to me,” she said. “I’m your commander.”

“In the field, yes,” he said, “but we are not in the field. We are in the bedroom and in the bedroom, I rule.”

“You know I could throw you out the airlock for this, right?” she threatened. It was far easier to get into the role when she didn’t have desire pounding through her veins, demanding that she submit to him.

“And you are aware that I could snap your neck,” he said, shifting between her legs. “But you need me for your mission and I need you for your employ so it seems we are at an impasse.”

He thrust into her and she yanked hard at her wrists, determined to free them. One slipped loose and she wrapped her hand around his throat. Drell had a hollow hyoid bone which made it almost impossible to strangle them and his major blood vessels were buried deeper within his neck than hers so she wasn’t concerned with injuring him. It was the statement that was important. “I won’t fuck someone I can’t touch,” she said again as her thumb grazed his neck.

“Then I suppose it is a good thing that I intend to fuck you and not the other way around,” he said but his voice was deeper and more guttural than normal. He reached up and twisted her wrist almost painfully before pinning it again. “I will put you in stasis, Commander,” he warned.

She didn’t want that, so she glared at him but remained still. He shifted his grip so that he had her in a single hand again and reached between them to tweak her clit. She forgot to resist as desire flared again and he wrapped her legs around his waist. He hadn’t taken her like this, face to face on a bed, before and if she ignored the fact that he was restraining her to prevent her from touching him, she could almost imagine that they really were just a pair of lovers coming together.

He pulled out of her suddenly and flipped her onto her side. She felt him settle behind her and then he was lifting a leg over his hip and thrusting into her from behind. He released her hands to wrap his fingers in her hair and tugged her head to the side so that he could lick and nip at her neck. His other hand swept over her abdomen to cup her breast. With her hands now free, it wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine that he was fucking her like a lover, especially when he addressed her as commander and whispered in her ear about how desirable she was, how he wanted her, how he’d sensed her own desire for him. 

She forgot her role and the game they were playing as she rolled her hips to take him deeper and hooked her foot around the back of his knee. He groaned and thrust more sharply inside of her, driving her to new heights. Her breathing grew shallow and she moaned as his teeth scraped over her ear. She felt herself growing closer and reached out for something to anchor her. Her hand went around the back of his neck and she breathed, “Thane,” as she completely forgot herself. Turning her head, she caught his lips with her own. He stiffened for half a heartbeat and then a groan tore itself from his chest and he began to pound roughly into her as his lips crushed hers and his tongue swept into her mouth. His kiss…oh, his kiss was everything she’d imagined. It was passionate and hot and hungry and it sent her spiraling over the edge. He groaned again as he tensed, spilling himself into her and sighed against her lips, “Irikah.”

She froze as the dagger went straight into her heart and twisted. She felt something break inside of her and half expected to look down and find a real blade buried in her chest with blood trailing over her breast. She released him as if he’d burned her and turned away, curling into herself and gasping as she tried to reconcile herself with the pain. She wrapped her arms around her torso and sat up, facing away from him.

“Siha, I—” he began in a whisper.

“I think you’ve said enough, don’t you?” she asked in a strained voice so thin she could barely hear it.

“Shepard,” he admonished. 

“No,” she said. “I can’t do this, Thane. I _am_ the commander. I _am_ Shepard. I’m a damn legend. I saved the goddamn galaxy with only a ship and a handful of people by my side while the galaxy scoffed. I died and came back. I’m leading a mission where no one has gone before to fight an enemy no one has faced before with nothing more than a ship and a handful of people. I am _better_ than this and I deserve better than this. I deserve more than to be a living blow-up doll that you superimpose with your dead wife’s face.”

She stood and began to pace, rubbing her forehead. “The complete and utter lack of even basic respect and dignity you give me is abhorrent. I have never complained when you lost yourself in memories of her when you should have been present with me. I haven’t complained when you leave my bed before morning or kick me out of yours. You treat me like some whore you picked up in a bar. I haven’t complained when you won’t let me fucking _touch_ you or when you lied about your reason for it or when you remember all of the times when _she_ touched you and you loved it. I have _never_ tried to come between you or take her place. All I have ever asked of you was to give me my own place and to be present in it with me when we were together and you can’t even do that. I’ve played your whore and your victim and your servant and your slave and have given you everything you’ve asked.” 

He started to speak and she held up a hand, cutting him off. She wasn’t Siha and he wasn’t Sere right now and she would say her piece. “Did I tell you I slept with Garrus? I didn’t say I fucked him, Thane, don’t look at me like that. I slept in the bed with him. We came back from Alchera. I needed you. I came to you and you sent me away. So when I woke up from nightmares, I went down and found your door locked. I thought about going in but was too raw to handle being turned away again. His was open, so I went there. And I slept in his bed with his arms around me and woke up beside him and I felt safe and cherished and respected and all of the things that I should be feeling with _you_. 

“And then we hit the Shadow Broker base and I find a dossier on you. I shouldn’t have read it. I’ll admit to that. But I did. Do you know what I found?”

“Medical records?” he guessed.

She nodded. “You’re a viable candidate for a transplant. You turned it down. I mean so little to you that you can’t be bothered to stay the fuck alive to be with me. She has you forever. You can’t even take what would amount to an iota of time to be alive with me.”

She swiped angrily at the traitorous tears that dripped down her face and turned away from him. He didn’t get to see this. He didn’t get to see her ripped open and bleeding in front of him. She’d said too much, revealed too much already. She heard him shift and then his hands were on her shoulders. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. There was no point. He would just catch her again. “You are right, Shepard,” he said. “I have done you a grave disservice. I have used you to ease my own pain and in doing so have given it to you. Irikah would be…disappointed in me. She would be angry on your behalf. So I have betrayed her memory as well. I would stay with you, Shepard. I would take the risk of surgery and the pain of recovery to remain by your side if I were my own but that is not mine to give. I abandoned her in life. I cannot do so in death as well and if I were to stay, if I were to allow myself to open to you, I would never wish to leave. I was not thinking of her, Shepard. Your touch, your mouth, your passion and fire and need fed a part of my soul that I had thought long dead, a part I cannot give to you. I…knew that the use of her name would be the one thing which you could not forgive of me and I used it as a weapon. She would be horrified.”

“I get it, Thane. You belong to her. I belonged to you. So where does that leave me?” she said. “Alone. Again. I was a fool to even consider this.”

He was silent for a long moment and then said, “Will you grant me one last thing?”

“I’m not really feeling the whole ‘for old times’ sake’ thing just yet,” she said and then sighed. “What?”

“Dress and come with me, Siha,” he said.


	10. Chapter 10

She complied, wondering why she was doing it even as she did. She owed him nothing. They were over. She had nothing left to give him. Still, when he dressed and led her from the cabin, she followed. She thought he was going to his quarters but he turned away and cut through the mess hall. She raised a brow at his back. She was not going to fix him a goddamn sandwich. He bypassed the galley and climbed the steps to the main battery. She stopped and crossed her arms. “What are you doing?”

“You will see, Siha,” he said. “Come.”

“If you’re planning on saying one damn word to Garrus about him being there for me when you weren’t, you can just—”

“Quiet, Siha,” he said. “I am not angry with Garrus nor with you for finding comfort where I refused.”

She cursed and followed him. To her surprise, Garrus was awake. He was at his terminal, grumbling under his breath as he tapped in a string of commands. “Just a minute, Shepard,” he said without looking back at her. “This damn calculation is…Thane?”

“Yes,” Thane said. “Continue. We will wait. Do not be concerned.”

Garrus gave a short nod and continued to grumble and type, blocking out their presence. After a few minutes, he crowed, “That’s it, you bastard. I told you that was going to work, EDI.” He turned to face them and leaned back against the console with his arms over his chest. “What can I do for you?”

Thane said something in a language that she couldn’t understand. Garrus, however, clearly did. He winced at first and started to say something and then his eyes widened and his mandibles splayed in something akin to shock as he looked quickly from Thane to Shepard. When Thane finished, he continued to gape at them before blinking and saying, “Your accent is atrocious. Did I hear that right?”

“You did,” Thane said. 

“She’s willing?” Garrus asked doubtfully.

“I believe so,” Thane said. 

“You didn’t discuss it with her?” Garrus demanded.

“It is…a recent decision,” Thane said. “One that I have considered for some time but had hoped would be unnecessary. I am confident that she will consent.”

Garrus said something to Thane in the language the drell had used but it was immediately clear that it was one in which Garrus was fluent. She’d never heard his voice like that. Both sets of vocal chords worked both together and independently of each other, accentuating the flanged effect that came through even with her translator. When Thane responded, she thought it sounded like a pair of big cats having a conversation. 

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Shepard said.

Thane turned to look at her and said, “We are discussing the terms of your transfer.”

“My transfer?” she asked in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Do you remember when we discussed my authority to give you to another dominant partner?” he asked. She nodded and he gestured to Garrus. “Our arrangement is actually incredibly common in his society. Hierarchy is a central part of his culture even in relationships. He believed that you would be insistent on being the dominant partner and, as that is determined by things which would make you unable to do so with him, he was unwilling to risk the friendship which the two of you share by asking.”

“What kind of things?” she asked.

“I could take you in a dominance fight,” Garrus answered. “It would be rough, bloody, brutal, and probably go a dozen rounds before we got to anything more than a draw but I’d win in the end and you’d be injured in the process.”

“You’ve never beaten me in a spar, Garrus,” she said.

“I’ve never used teeth and talons on you aside from that one accidental swipe,” he said. “I hold back. I know you do, too, but all I have to do is get you on the ground and it’s over. You’d have to take me on your feet and you can’t reach my throat. I’m bigger, stronger, and have more natural weapons than you do. Say we were attacked somewhere without weapons or armor or tech, I would be more suited to protect you than you would me. That makes me the dominant partner in my society.”

Thane said, “I would give you to him, Siha, if you consent. You have already stated that he is capable of meeting your needs in a way that I am not. You care deeply about him and he about you. He is the one you would have chosen had I not interfered while you both were vulnerable. You eventually would have worked it out.”

Shepard looked warily at Garrus. Seeing the hopeful look in his eyes that he was desperately trying to hide, she said, “You…want _me_.” 

“Why the hell wouldn’t I?” he asked. “You’re my best friend. There’s no one in this galaxy I respect more than you. We make a damn good team and walk into hell for each other. I don’t really have a fetish for humans but this isn’t about that. I think you’re beautiful because you’re you.”

Thane walked over to her and whispered in her ear, “He can love you, Siha, as I cannot. Allow me to do this for you. My arm will always be yours. My heart can never be. His can and will.”

“I can’t just jump from one man to another like you’re interchangeable,” she said. 

“You are not,” he said. “You are leaving me for the one you should have been with all along, the one you have wanted for years, the one you would have given yourself to even before your death.”

“Is that true, Shepard?” Garrus asked, looking stunned.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Why do you think I spent so much time working on the damn Mako with you? I hated that thing but it meant I got to be around you without making a fool of myself.”

Thane put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “Be happy, Siha. I release you.” She turned and watched as he walked away. 

Garrus moved, catching her eye, and came to her. He stopped just short of touching her and looked down. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said. “I want you to but I don’t want you to do it because he wants it or I want it. I want you to do it because you want it.”

She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to shift gears. Everything had happened so fast but she realized that she’d been drawing away from Thane since the moment she saw that dossier. She’d never fully given herself to him in the first place. There had just been too much distance there for her to open herself that completely. She’d always wanted Garrus and she’d been gravitating toward him with an almost helpless inevitability. It was almost as if Thane’s purpose had been to prepare her for this. 

He’d shown her that she enjoyed the freedom of submission and she could only imagine how much more she would love it if it was to someone whom she trusted implicitly, someone she cared about and who cared about her in return without reserve, someone who made her feel completely safe. She felt alive with Garrus in a way that she never had with Thane. It didn’t matter if they were tinkering on the Mako or watching each other’s backs in a firefight or drunk off their asses at a bar. When he was there, she felt complete. 

She hesitated only for a moment before placing her hands on his chest. His came up to stroke down her arms and cup her elbows. She felt a faint rumble under her hands and looked up at him curiously. He was both smiling and uncertain but hopeful. There was no doubt with Garrus that he cared about this, that he cared about her. She said, “So how does this work?”

The rumble grew audible as his hands tightened on her and he pulled her to him. Her arms went around him and he nuzzled the side of her head. “However we want it to work,” he said. “It can be as formal or informal as we want. We decide together and go with it and then if we find it isn’t working, we sit down and figure out a new game plan. It might give us a starting point if you tell me what you liked and disliked with Thane.”

“It doesn’t bother you that I came from him to you?” she asked.

“I’d hoped you would, actually,” he said. “This isn’t uncommon in my culture. We mate for life but before that comes a lot of complicated ritual and one of those is that if the submissive partner finds someone he or she likes better who is willing and also more dominant, then the original dominant partner makes a kind of transfer. It’s all very complex and formalized and turian. We don’t have to abide by it if you don’t want to. I don’t care either way.” He drew back and looked at her. “Shepard, right now, we’re equals. Tell me what you want. Don’t just go with my way or my desires. This is the negotiation portion.”

“All right,” she said. 

“This is a lot to throw at you in one night, though,” he said. “I have a suggestion.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“We either go up to your cabin and your bed or to that cot over there and get some sleep and then talk about this in the morning,” he said. “It’s a travel day. We have time and I don’t want to rush this. Or, if you want to be alone to process, then we can go our separate ways for the night and I’ll come up tomorrow.”

She grinned at him and said, “Garrus, I processed the fact that I died and was brought back while in the middle of a firefight. I can handle this. However, I do agree that some sleep would be in order. It is late. My bed’s bigger but it’s, ah…I need to change the sheets.”

“It’s all right, Shepard,” he said. “I will appreciate it for comfort’s sake but the territoriality doesn’t come in to play yet.”

“Territorial, huh?” she asked.

“Is that a problem?” he asked.

“Not if I get to be territorial, too,” she said.

“Deal,” he said.


	11. Chapter 11

He accompanied her up to her cabin and took a seat on the couch as she stripped the bed and put fresh sheets on it. She looked over to find him looking at her and he grinned at her. She didn’t think she’d seen him this happy since before she’d died. It was rare even then and generally occurred only when they were under the Mako working on a problem with it or with their arms slung around each other as they staggered back to the ship after a long night at Flux. She smiled back as she tucked the last bit of the bedding in and he began to remove his armor. 

She watched him openly, appreciating the economy of his movements, the uniqueness of his shape. He was as different from Thane as he could be but he was just as beautiful in his own way. He didn’t have the same quiet lethality that whispered from the assassin. His was more overt. He was every inch the apex predator and that was just as alluring as Thane’s chiseled form. Thane was more elegant and refined. He looked more at home in a suit and tie than a suit of armor though he was death personified on the battlefield. 

Garrus, though, was another animal entirely. He had his own raptorial grace but he was open where Thane was closed off and warm where Thane was cool. He’d had his confidence shaken and his innocence lost on Omega but he’d also grown there. She thought about the Shadow Broker’s assessment that he was unlikely to develop fully under her command and thought that he clearly hadn’t known everything. That might have been true once upon a time but no longer. He had all of the makings of a fine leader and she was going to make damn sure to draw that out both on the field and off.

“Do you still want to be a Spectre?” she asked suddenly.

The question seemed to take him off guard. “I don’t know,” he said. “It didn’t end too well the first time.”

“You’ve grown up since then,” she pointed out. “Think about it. Your name’s still on the training roster. Bau’s assessment of you was better than good and a lot of the issues he’s pointed out you’ve overcome.”

“You read my assessment?” he asked. 

“I am a Spectre,” she said, “and you are serving on my ship. I’m biased, though, so I wanted an outside opinion. He not only recommended you for training, he also volunteered to do it. That doesn’t happen often unless the one who puts your name forward is also your assessor.”

“I’ve wondered about that,” he said. “Was I just drawn out of a hat or was it because of the Battle of the Citadel or because I helped take down Saren? Whose eye did I catch?”

“Who do you think, Garrus?” she asked with a grin. “Come on, I thought that was obvious.”

“You?” he asked. 

“Of course,” she said. “You impressed me. You continue to impress me. Think about it. I’ve already been training you. That would just formalize it.”

“Do you really think I’m capable of that, Shepard? My team…” he said.

“Garrus, do you think you’re the only one who’s ever lost his team?” she asked. “Fifty marines died on Akuze because I failed to hold them together. I was their leader and they died because I didn’t do my job.”

“You had a nest of thresher maws attacking you,” he said.

“Three, Garrus,” she said. “You, Tali, and I have taken them down. Thane, Grunt, and I took one down in minutes. I should have been able to take three with fifty people if I can take one with two. If we had stayed calm...if _I_ had stayed calm, they’d have survived it. There isn’t a single N7 in the Alliance who hasn’t sacrificed himself or his team at some point and there isn’t a single Spectre who hasn’t, either. It’s part of why we’re chosen. We know the consequences when we fuck up and we also know how to come back from it.”

He came to her and put his arms around her. She leaned into him, reveling in the novelty of being able to lean on each other and support each other. He, in turn, seemed to revel in her touch. She ran her hands over the plates on his back, testing them and finding give where there appeared to be none. It seemed an appropriate metaphor for him. He bent where it seemed like he should break and he was soft under that hard exterior. She reached up and cupped his uninjured mandible and said, “You can be so much more than you believe, Garrus. Do you think I’d be willing to follow you if I didn’t trust you to lead?”

He nuzzled into her hand and said, “No one has ever believed in me the way you do, Shepard. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“You can only let me down if you don’t try,” she told him. “I don’t care if you fail. We all fail. What’s important is that you get up and you try again.”

He hooked his hands around her thighs and picked her up. She let out a surprised laugh as he carried her to the bed and tossed her down on it. She slid back as he stalked up with her and pounced, rolling her beneath him. His demeanor was playful and she laughed again as they wrestled and he nipped teasingly at her jaw before pulling her to him again. “What was that?” she asked with a grin. He was so _different_.

“Turians play fight with people they care about,” he said. “It starts when we’re kids. Our parents and older siblings do it to teach us how to defend ourselves and then how to attack effectively.”

“So you’re basically doing the same thing as a cat bringing me a mouse,” she said. When he cocked his head, she said, “Cats are predatory animals on Earth that people keep as pets. They’re about the size of a pyjak but built differently. They tend to kill things and bring them to their owners because they’re trying to teach them how to hunt.”

“No,” he said, chuckling. “I know you know how to fight. It’s just…fun.”

“Wait, we can have fun?” she asked. “No one told me that.”

“We are going to have a _lot_ of fun, Shepard,” he purred.

“Oh, holy god,” she said. “Do that again.”

“What?” he asked.

“Talk like that,” she said. “Read a menu, recite the turian constitution, do math equations, whatever. Just do it in that voice. That was _hot_.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “But I thought we were sleeping tonight.”

“And here you said we were going to have fun,” she grumbled playfully. He chuffed and she wrapped her arms around him. 

He held her during the night and when she woke from her nightmare, he was there, comforting her even before she was fully aware. He closed the window and threaded his fingers through her hair, rumbling soothingly in his chest. She went back to sleep without issue and he was there again when she woke the following morning to the sound of him sputtering. She lifted her head and looked at him curiously. “Your hair,” he said and she reached up to untangle it from his mandible. She opened her mouth to apologize but his hands tightened on her and he groaned. She thought she’d hurt him for a moment until she realized that it was desire rather than pain. “That’s a, uh, sensitive area,” he told her.

“Should I apologize?” she asked.

“No, but…maybe hurry unless you want me to figure out this whole interspecies thing on the fly,” he said. “I’d planned to do research.”

“Who needs research?” she asked as she finished disentangling herself. “You’ve got me.”

“Tempting, Shepard,” he said. “Very tempting. But I want to do this right.”

“Fine,” she sighed playfully and kissed him lightly on the mouth before rolling away. “Let’s go get chow and talk.”

They ate in the mess hall. She was surprised to see Thane there and her heart lurched momentarily at the sight of him. There was still a part of her that belonged to him and she thought it always would. He’d opened her eyes to a side of herself she hadn’t known existed and one night was not enough to stop the instant pang of longing. He smiled when he saw her and she thought it looked a bit sad but didn’t know if she was seeing what was there or what she wanted to see. 

Garrus took both his plate and hers from Gardener and carried them to their spot at the table. They’d always eaten together and so the only thing that had changed was that Thane was no longer at her left as he’d been for the past two months. It was noted by the crew but when she treated it as normal, they let it pass without comment. Tali took his seat instead.

She found herself paying more attention to Garrus than her food and, of course, the quarian noticed. Tali knew them both well enough to read them and she leaned over and whispered, “So I take it you finally wised up.”

“What do you mean?” Shepard asked.

She said, “Look, I’m not saying Thane’s a bad guy. He isn’t. But…he just didn’t seem to care enough and, besides, we all kind of thought that you and Garrus should get together. I’m happy for you. You haven’t smiled this much since we were on the first _Normandy_.”

“Thanks, Tali,” she said. 

After breakfast, Garrus returned to the main battery to check the calibrations he’d started the night before. She warned him that if he wasn’t finished in an hour, she was going to come drag him out. He told her the idea had merit but that he’d be up soon. She returned to her cabin to shower and change and was working on a report when he walked in. He rested his hands on her shoulders and began to rub small circles with his thumbs. She groaned in delight and leaned back into him. 

She said, “You asked what I liked and didn’t with Thane. I liked the formality to a point. I liked the ritual and I liked kneeling at his feet while he meditated. I like rules and structure. They help me to know where I stand and I don’t have to worry about inadvertently pissing someone off. I liked the pain aspects, too. I didn’t like the distance. I didn’t like not being allowed to touch him. I didn’t like the mind games he played. I didn’t like being constantly off-guard and feeling two steps behind and struggling to catch up. It wasn’t a partnership. If you want to restrain me or hold my hands down during sex, that’s fine on occasion but it needs to be spice rather than the whole enchilada.”

“I don’t know what an enchilada is,” he said, “but I think I get the picture. I can work with that. I think we read each other well enough that we don’t need special names to determine who’s in charge at any given moment. If it’s something that falls within your normal command, it’s you. If it’s just the two of us, it’s me. I’m not a big fan of rules as you may have noticed. You’re a grown woman and I trust you to make good decisions for yourself and for us but if you want them, we can think of something. I’m fine with a formalized command structure and the like. I’m not a sadist but I am a turian. I think I can keep you satisfied in that regard. I do expect monogamy. In turian culture, that has to be stated.”

“I would prefer that,” she said. “I got my fill of sharing with Thane.”

“You do know that you can’t go back to him now without ending this, right?” he asked.

“I won’t,” she said. “Like I said, I got my fill. It was already over when we came to you. He…called me by her name and I realized I was just a placeholder.”

“I’m sorry, Shepard,” he said. 

“It’s all right,” she said. “At the end of the day, it got me you and I’ve wanted that since…well, since you told me about Dr. Saleon.”

“I had no idea,” he said and then leaned down and purred in her ear. “Oh, and the only person’s arms you’ll be sleeping in are mine.”

“I’m okay with that,” she said.

It amazed her how much simpler this was with him. Thane had said that she didn’t know his mind and he didn’t know hers. She and Garrus did. They didn’t need a long, drawn-out negotiation. He knew where her lines were drawn and she knew his. Even if they did stumble on something they didn’t know how to handle, they knew each other well enough to recognize and work through it. She was completely and totally comfortable with him and trusted him absolutely. 

His hands slid into the collar of her shirt and framed her collarbone with them, stroking softly. She tilted her head back to look up at him and his hand slid up her throat to hold it lightly. The thumb that grazed across her pulse sent a shiver down her spine and his mandibles flared. There was unmistakable hunger in his eyes and she covered the hand over her collarbone with her own and slid it down over her breast. His hand flexed and she breathed in and bit her lip. 

He nudged her up with the hand on her throat and she rose obediently and turned to face him. His hands shook slightly as he went to work on the toggles of her shirt. “I want to see you, Shepard” he said.

She stepped back and showed him how to undo the toggles and then let the garment fall. His eyes roved over her with a combination of curiosity, uncertainty, and—when they reached her waist—lust. It was the last that had her ignoring her bra for a moment and hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her pants, dragging them down just enough to expose the tops of her hips and the delicate vee of muscle between. He reached out and dragged a talon lightly across the line of her hip as he began to make a sound like a purr.

“Your heart is racing,” he said, glancing up at her. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “This is…important.”

His hand cupped her hip and squeezed. “To me, too,” he assured her. 

She drew her pants down over her hips and stepped out of them before finally releasing her bra. His touch was light as he ran his finger over her collarbone, sternum, breasts, ribcage, and back. She got the impression that he was comparing her to turian women he’d been with before and noting the differences which, she was sure, were many. She wondered how she stacked up for him. He’d said he didn’t have a human fetish. He might not actually be attracted to her at all. 

“You’re beautiful, Shepard,” he whispered, tracing the lines of her scars. She knew how self-conscious he was about his own and wouldn’t have believed him had he not been looking at her like she was a priceless work of art. 

“May I see you, sir?” she asked demurely.

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” he rumbled with a grin.


	12. Chapter 12

She watched in fascination as he stripped off his own tunic. She’d never seen him without clothes on before. Thane had been different from a human but still essentially similar enough to be familiar. Garrus was entirely foreign and she was reminded that he was, quite literally, alien. She didn’t generally see that when she looked at him. Even in the beginning, he’d been a turian but she’d been raised in space. Aliens were just people who didn’t look like her, much to her mother’s consternation when it came to his species. She didn’t care that their people had been at war for a few months when they were both kids. She cared that he’d always had her back. 

She’d seen pictures of turians without armor or clothing before and had even gone so far as to purchase an issue of _Fornax_ on Omega once that featured them so she had an idea of what to expect but it wasn’t the same as having one—having _Garrus_ —right in front of her. He was bigger than she was by a significant amount and far more predatory when he was looking at her like he was about to devour her. She thought he was the beautiful one. It wasn’t the humanoid beauty of Thane but instead the beauty of a creature whose purpose was hunting and killing and who used that to guard and support her. 

“Bed,” he said and she went willingly. She sat up with a knee drawn up, watching his cocky stride carry him across the room to her. He climbed gracefully onto the bed with her and pushed her onto her back with a finger. He took her hands and placed them at her sides. “Keep them there. Just for now,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” she said and he gulped visibly. He _really_ liked that. 

She remained still and let him explore her body with his hands. He didn’t hide his curiosity as he turned her this way and that and peered at things like her navel as if trying to figure them out. She found it endearing and entirely adorable. He was very clearly indulging that curiosity. He didn’t try to entice her as he stroked and prodded and weighed and tested various parts of her that caught his interest. She knew her smile was indulgent and itched to touch him in return. She wanted to run her hand over his fringe, across his mandible, and pull him in for a kiss. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t in control here and wanted it that way. 

“Well, that explains why humans are so slow,” he mused aloud as he examined her ankle. “Flat feet.” His talon ran lightly over the sole of her foot and she squealed and reflexively tried to pull out of his grasp. He did it again as she struggled and said, “Shepard, does that…are you… _ticklish_?”

“Yes!” she shouted.

“Yes, what?” he asked with a grin that she could only describe as evil and flicked his talon over her foot again.

“Yes, sir!” she corrected. “And that is a very good way to get kicked in the face!” 

“Threatening the man with the power, Shepard?” he taunted. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“Have you met me?” she asked, continuing to try to break free of his grip. He held firm.

“Have you met me…?” he prompted.

“Sir! Have you met me, sir! Will you please release my foot, sir?!” she shouted.

“Hmm. Since you asked so nicely, I suppose,” he said and she collapsed back, gasping. 

She should have known he’d be playful. She just wasn’t expecting it after Thane’s somberness. “You are evil, _sir_ ,” she said.

“You like it,” he charged. He shifted his grip and ran his tongue over her ankle, up her calf, and behind her knee. She gasped and clenched her fists in the sheets at the sudden change of sensation. His tongue was long and both thinner and rougher than that to which she was accustomed but her body didn’t care that it was different. She thought it felt amazing. “Do you want to touch, Shepard?” he asked, looking at her.

“Yes, sir,” she said adamantly. 

“All right,” he said and moved to lie on his back beside her after arranging the pillows to support his neck and fringe. “Don’t put your teeth on my throat and don’t press in here,” he said, gesturing to a spot at the base of his throat. “You can rupture the crop if you aren’t careful.”

“You have a crop?” she asked. “Okay. Why have I never noticed that?”

“Vestigial,” he said. “We don’t actually use it but it is still a weak spot.”

“Gods, you are such an _alien_ ,” she said.

“Me?” he demanded. “You have a hole in your stomach!”

“It’s closed,” she said.

“Uh huh,” he said. “That cannot be safe.”

“Do you have hollow bones, too?” she teased. 

“They aren’t hollow,” he said. “They have lung tissue in them. I can survive longer than you with a lung injury.”

“And a broken bone?” she asked.

“Dangerous,” he admitted. “But they’re also incredibly strong. It doesn’t happen often. Are you going to touch me or make fun of me all night?”

“Oh, I’m going to touch you, Garrus,” she said. “I mean, sir.”

“You can call me by my name, Shepard,” he said as she trailed her hands down his keel. “We were friends for years before this. I like hearing you call me sir but you don’t have to do it all the time. We know where we stand and when. Besides, I like the way you say my name.”

“Yeah?” she asked, dipping her fingers into the thinner hide between his plates. She didn’t know where he had sensation and where he didn’t, so she was trying a variety of things and judging his reactions. 

“Oh, yeah,” he said, humming as she leaned forward to trail her lips up the side of his neck. “When you showed up on Omega and I took my helmet off and you realized it was me…spirits, Shepard, watch the waist…when you realized it was me and said my name….”

“I’ve never been so happy to see anyone before in my life,” she said, continuing to touch him in much the same way he had touched her but interspersed with her lips and tongue on the places she discovered were sensitive.

“The feeling was mutual,” he said. “No one’s ever said my name like that before. I’d given up. I had resigned myself to death and then you were there and you looked and sounded like you’d just been given the _Normandy_ all over again. Don’t think I missed the way you looked at that ship when Anderson turned it over to you. You looked at me like that and I wanted to live again. You were alive. Anything was possible.”

She ran her fingers over the cobalt markings on the unscarred side of his face and said, “The _Normandy_ was clearly replaceable. You aren’t. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Garrus. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Yeah, you could,” he said. “Not as stylishly, of course.”

“Uh-huh. Keep saying that, sir,” she said. “Does your face still hurt?”

“Only when I look at it,” he answered. 

“You’re beautiful, Garrus Vakarian,” she said, cupping that side of his face as she’d been afraid to do before. “Scars and all.”

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. He went very still for a moment and then relaxed slightly. She realized that he’d probably never done this before and didn’t know what to do. She was sure he’d seen other races do it but that didn’t mean he had the first clue how it worked. She wasn’t entirely certain herself given the shape of his mouth but he seemed open to experimentation, so she ran her lips across his before tracing the edge of his lip plates with her tongue. He rumbled a warning when she ran it along the front of his teeth, taking care to avoid the sharp points. She rubbed her thumb reassuringly across his mandible and he relaxed, allowing her to slip her tongue between and find his. 

After a moment, he began to mimic her movements and when he heard her sigh, his hands tightened on her and his tongue swept into her mouth as he placed one of her hands on the back of his neck below his fringe. The rumble in his chest guided her as she traced the suede-like skin there. Remembering the night when she’d slept on his cot and he’d removed her arm from his waist, she tentatively ran her palm over it. He groaned like she’d done something lascivious and she felt victorious. She’d figured out something he liked on her own.  
She looked down when she felt something shift and he gave an odd little roll of his hips, activating muscles that allowed him to slide out from between his plates. He was shaped similarly enough to a human for her to be assured that it would work but… “Damn, Garrus, I knew you liked big blue guns but I didn’t realize you were using them as a representation.”

“What’s wrong, Shepard?” he asked with a cocky grin. “Afraid it won’t fit the holster?”

“It’ll fit,” she said with a gulp. “I think. I might need to, uh, perform a weapons check, though.”

She slid down his rough, alien body to get a closer look. He wasn’t much longer than Thane or a human male and she’d been expecting length given his height but he was _thick_ and that, she hadn’t been expecting. She also hadn’t been expecting it to be blue. It wasn’t the deep cobalt of his markings but, combined with the pale color of the relatively thin skin, was a shade that she normally associated with hypothermia. That had her expecting him to be cold even though she knew that turians ran hotter than humans and the heat that met her questing fingertips was almost shocking. His length glistened wetly and her fingers glided easily over the sworls and ridges that covered him. He gasped when her hand closed over him and groaned again. 

Curiously, she bent her head and ran her tongue along the underside of him. The taste was tangy and slightly metallic but not unpleasant. He jerked away from her and stared at her with his mandibles agape. “Spirits, Shepard, what the hell are you doing?” he demanded. 

“Licking you,” she said as if it was obvious.

“Why?” he asked. “If you think you’re getting your teeth anywhere near—”

“Relax,” she said. “I won’t bite and it won’t hurt. Trust me, okay? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. Here, give me your hand. Please.” He looked doubtful but gave her his hand and she placed it on the back of her head. “Now you’re in control.”

He continued to watch her warily and his hand was tense in her hair as she bent her head again and ran her tongue over him. When he didn’t pull her away, she took him into her mouth. He jerked but didn’t otherwise react. She was beginning to think that turians didn’t like blow jobs when she felt him sink back into the bed and his hand began to knead her scalp. She reached up to stroke his abdomen and he purred like a big cat. She had a moment of disconnect at the sight of him with his eyes slightly glazed and an expression of surprised pleasure on his face. _I’m giving_ Garrus _his first blow job. I’m sucking off my best friend and he’s loving it._ The realization sent heat through her and she redoubled her efforts to ensure that he enjoyed this.

His vocalizations began to fray as his hand tightened in her hair again. This time, though, he used it to guide her while he began to thrust shallowly into her mouth. The thought that _Garrus_ was fucking her mouth made her moan around his cock and he did pull her off of him then. He rolled, pinning her beneath him, and said, “Keep that up and I’m going to finish and I am not ready for that yet.”

“Glad you liked it,” she said with a grin. 

“Do you, uh, like that?” he asked. When she nodded, he said, “Trust me?”

“Of course,” she said. “Do turians not…?”

“What do you think?” he asked and displayed his teeth. “Are you sure you want those that close to a sensitive area?”

“You won’t hurt me,” she said confidently.

“No,” he agreed, “I won’t. Not like that, at least.”

She expected him to move down immediately but instead he started at her throat, running his tongue and his stiff lips over her pulse before dipping down into the hollow of her clavicle. He nipped her collarbone with his lips before trailing down over her breast and wrapping his tongue around her nipple. She gasped and clutched at his shoulders. Reflex and months of being trained not to touch had her withdrawing again but he took her hands and returned them. 

He continued down, taking his time and learning where she liked to be touched. He found places that made her sigh and places that made her groan and she could see him noting the ticklish spot between her ribs. _Sadist._ His teeth scraped over her hipbone and she jolted and raked her nails over his shoulders. His eyes lit up when he heard her moan and he did it again. Her hipbones, lower back, and the sides of her waist had always been sensitive and he seemed delighted by this discovery. She didn’t think it was anywhere near the intensity that he felt in the same region but it was still more than pleasant. By the time he reached the juncture of her thighs, she was breathless with anticipation and the first flick of that rough tongue on her was electric. He paused, considering their reactions, and then licked again. “Oh, fuck,” she moaned, threading her fingers between the spines of his fringe. 

It was readily apparent that he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was doing but he was a quick learner and attentive to her reactions. He figured it out fast but had yet to reach the point where she truly needed him and she didn’t know if he’d truly figured out how she worked and it was a deliberate thing or if he just hadn’t gotten to it yet. He circled her clit, drew his tongue around her entrance, nipped at her folds with his lips, and teased her until she didn’t think she could stand it any longer and then the tip of his tongue was sliding over her nub and she reacted as if he’d sent electricity straight through her. 

He hummed approval before dragging his tongue down to her entrance and sliding it in. Her eyes flew open in shock and her body bowed into the contact as that hot, long tongue explored her inside. His lip plates brushed over her clit and her hand tightened on his fringe, scraping her nails on the soft underside. That seemed to spark something in him because his arms wrapped under her thighs and he took a hard grip on her hips and abruptly pulled her closer in to him as his tongue thrust inside of her. She’d seen desire in him but now she felt the passion and her body transformed into a livewire as she bucked and writhed in his grip. She heard someone moaning wantonly and realized that it was her. “Oh, fuck, Garrus, please. Please, Garrus. Oh gods, oh fuck. Right there. Oh, shit, _Garrus_! Please let me come. Please! I need you!”

To her consternation, he stopped. She groaned in frustration but then his liquid sex voice was wrapping around her with a hint of amusement in his tone. “Shepard, are you telling me you can’t finish unless I give you permission?” he purred.

“Not…not easily,” she said, wiggling her hips in an attempt to get back to that magical touch.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” he said. “Is it true human females can orgasm multiple times?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please, Garrus, don’t torment me.”

“This is going to be very fun,” he said. “I…suppose I can let you have the first one for free. You know, before you start modifying a rifle, you have to test its base function.”

“Garrus! I swear to all that is holy, if you don’t—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, tapping a talon against her hipbone. “You don’t give orders here, remember?”

“Fuck! Garrus, _please_!” she wailed.

“Better,” he said and dipped his head again. He flicked his tongue over her before sliding it into her once more and bringing a hand around to circle her clit with his thumb. The talons of the other hand scraped over her hipbone and she cried his name like she was supplicating her god which, right now, wasn’t too far from the truth. If he kept making her feel like this, she’d worship the ground he walked on. Had she known all those years ago what she was missing, she probably would have jumped him in the Mako. He chuckled against her and he realized that the filter between her brain and her mouth had gone out the airlock and she was thinking aloud. The reverberations of his laugh sent her flying over the edge.

He moved up until his erection was against her entrance and buried his hands in her hair to kiss her. He’d learned this quickly, too. She could taste herself on his tongue and moaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Turians don’t fuck face-to-face, Shepard,” he said on a groan, “but if you’re planning on keeping your legs there, I think I can make an exception.”

He entered her slowly, almost hesitantly, nudging forward as he felt her relax around him. He really was big and he stretched her to the border of pain. The wetness of her orgasm and his natural lubrication helped but there was nothing to be done about the sheer size difference but to be patient and allow her body time to accommodate. “Spirits, Shepard,” he breathed, dropping his forehead to hers and stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “I thought turian women were tight. But they’re rigid and you have _give_. You have no idea how good this feels or how beautiful you look right now. All of the focus and intensity you bring to the battlefield is on your face and all I can think is ‘Damn, how did I get lucky enough to end up here?’”

“It’s the scars,” she gasped as he moved further into her, finally seating himself. He held to allow her to adjust again and then brought a thumb down to brush over her center. Her arms were around his neck and she thought back to that first rough, almost violent time with Thane. It had been nothing like this. There had never been anything like this. She and Garrus were friends first before anything else came into play. Her feelings for Thane had been needy, desperate, and had left her constantly feeling vaguely dissatisfied. Her lust for him had gotten mixed in with the excitement of newness and her own doubts about her worth outside of her role as commander alongside Garrus’ seeming rejection to create a cocktail that had broken her confidence and resulted in her chasing the very thing that was making her unhappy while overlooking the one she’d wanted in the first place.

“You sure you aren’t part krogan?” he asked, nuzzling her jaw. 

“Pretty sure, considering that humans didn’t even know the krogan existed when I was born,” she said, tilting her head back for him. He nipped lightly at her throat and she sighed. He took that as a positive sign and began to move. 

Now that she’d had time to adjust to his size, she was able to notice other things, like the way his lubrication was even slicker than hers and the way his ridges seemed almost designed to hit exactly the right places inside of her and the sheer _heat_ of him. Gods, he was hot. She gripped his waist tighter and the sound he made was almost a growl. Gradually, he began to speed his thrusts as their breathing grew ragged. His rhythm was different from what she anticipated but she caught it as quickly as they did the other’s in the field and she had the thought that she was ruined for human or even drell men forever.

She discovered that she loved the way his face looked like this. She’d seen a lot of expressions on Garrus Vakarian’s face in their time serving together but this one was her new favorite. His eyes were tightly focused on her as if nothing else in the galaxy existed but them in this moment and the way their vastly different bodies came together in perfect harmony. She couldn’t remember why she’d doubted in the first place. That was the way everything went with them. They were from two very different species which had been at war in their lifetimes. By rights, they could have been enemies. Yet, they’d discovered a likeness of temperament and a way of meshing their different styles that made them a force to be reckoned with. Shepard and Vakarian were an unstoppable team on the battlefield and now, she suspected, off of it as well.

Her grip on his waist tightened as he drove her inexorably higher and tension began to coil in her like a spring under pressure. He dipped his head and said into her ear, “Don’t come yet, Shepard. I want you to wait for me.” 

“Oh, gods. Fuck me, Garrus. Harder,” she gasped. This new, more self-assured side of him was… _so fucking hot_. She fought the urge to flip him on his back and ride him until they both fell apart. He was in charge here and his control seemed to be fading as rapidly as her own. His grip on her was tight, possessive, and the sounds he made were like being caught in a thunderstorm. 

He thrust into her hard and fast now and demanded in a rough voice, “Louder, Shepard. Let me hear you.”

Her nails scored the back of his neck and underside of his fringe as she bowed into him and begged shamelessly for release. His hands locked onto her hips, talons scraping along her skin, and he used his grip to drive deeper into her. He changed her angle slightly so that his plates brushed over her sensitized clit and what little control she had left broke. Her stretched internal muscles began to flutter helplessly and he cursed sharply and buried himself inside of her. The sensation of his hot seed spilling into her proved too much. Her toes curled hard as her orgasm washed over her with the force of a tsunami hitting land.

A series of tremors rippled through him and she ran her hands along his cowl, pulling his forehead down to hers. His hands found her face again and he kissed her with surprising softness before rolling onto his side and pulling her with him. He stayed inside of her, leaving a thigh hooked over his waist, and ran his fingers through her hair. She nuzzled his neck, feeling a rush of unadulterated affection for this alien who was both best friend and lover, and thought that giving her to him was the best thing that Thane could have done for her. 


	13. Chapter 13

Garrus pushed Shepard roughly against the wall of the lift with his hands buried in her hair, pulling it from its tight bun as his stiff lips crashed into her softer ones. His groan reverberated through the enclosed space and when he pinned her hands above her head and deepened the kiss, it was with his fingers entwined with her own and his armor clanging and scratching into hers as his knee drew up between her legs. She couldn’t feel it but knowing it was there was enough. 

He'd been uncertain about the whole kissing thing at first but had been willing to give it a try and had quickly come to enjoy it. She’d been uncertain about the whole kissing a turian thing at first but his tongue had changed her mind. That mobile tongue was wrapping around hers now as he drew her thigh up into the dip between his waist and hip. If they weren’t in armor right now, he would likely have already slit the fabric of her pants with his talons, lowered his own, and started fucking her right there. 

“Don’t ever…do that…again,” he growled, his repeated kisses taking the sting from his words and tone. This was fear, not anger. They’d finally assaulted the Collector base and he’d run to the airlock just in time to see her hopeless leap, the near miss, Kasumi and Thane’s hands wrapping around her arms and dragging her up. He wasn’t angry that she’d had Thane instead of him on her ground team. She had wanted Garrus there but she’d needed him to lead as much as he’d needed to know that she trusted him to do so, to keep her people safe and complete the mission if she fell, and he’d stepped up without complaint. Thane was the best fighter they had outside of the two of them and he’d wanted the drell there in spite of their former relationship because he’d known that was the best chance she had of survival. No, he was terrified because he’d almost lost her and they both knew it.

“Don’t plan to, sir,” she gasped as his mouth trailed down the side of her neck. “I didn’t plan it…ah, yes…that time. The platform…oh, gods…the platform broke. Fuck, this elevator is too damn _slow_!” 

“Eager, Shepard?” he asked, nipping beneath her jaw as he pulled her hips closer. He was there but not there, exactly where she wanted him but couldn’t feel him, and she felt like her body was on fire.

“Yes, sir,” she answered.

Sex with Thane had been good. Hell, it had been _great_. Sex with Garrus, though, was on a whole other level. She hadn’t had sex with someone she cared about in so long that she’d forgotten what it was like when desire met emotion and connection and the added thrill of their power dynamic only enhanced that. She didn’t have to be in charge. She didn’t have to think and evaluate and figure out how to adjust to meet his needs. He told her what to do and how to do it and, after that first somewhat awkward time, it had become effortless. 

The lift finally came to a stop and they stumbled out without releasing each other. His hands were back in her hair and hers were around his wrists and his mouth was as sealed to hers as it could get. He let go with one hand for long enough to palm the door control and then they were rushing into the cabin with their hands fumbling at each other’s armor and their own. Battered pieces fell indiscriminately to the floor and then her bare back was against the cool surface of the fish tank and her hands were above her head again, twined with his, and her legs were around his waist. 

“Spirits, Shepard, you’re so wet already,” he groaned and pushed his thick, ridged blue cock into her.

“Oh, gods, Garrus!” she moaned, pressing her shoulders back into the glass as her thighs gripped him and she began to move with him. Even after the few times they’d been together, there was still an adjustment period where he felt almost too big for her and the stretch of her body around him bordered on pain. She felt him nudge her jaw and obediently tilted her head back in response to his silent command. When his teeth closed lightly over her throat, she was stunned by the speed and intensity of her orgasm. 

“Oh, spirits, that is so damn hot,” he murmured against her skin. 

“Harder, Garrus,” she gasped. “Fuck me harder, please.”

“If I fuck you any harder, baby, we’re going to break the fish tank,” he said and paused his rhythm to carry her over to the bed. They fell together on it and he used his elbows to keep himself from crushing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew her nails down the softer hide. He snarled and began pounding into her again. “Don’t come again until I tell you,” he said and she grinned at the strain in his voice. 

He wrapped his hand in her hair and tugged her head back so that he could claim her throat again. Electricity shot through her and she scraped her nails across the underside of his fringe, feeling his teeth vibrate against her windpipe. She wasn’t going to last long if he kept that up. Then his hands were gliding over her thighs, her hips, her waist, and up her spine. She arched up into him, feeling the rub of his leathery plates as his keel settled between her breasts, and he raked his talons down her back. “Oh, fuck! Garrus, _please_!” 

“No,” he said. “I want you to beg. I want you to scream my name so loudly that everyone on the damn ship knows you’re mine. I want to come inside you while you writhe and then carry you up the steps, bend you over that desk, and fuck you hard from behind. I want you to plead with me for release and I’m not going to give it to you until you can’t hold back any longer.”

His words went straight to her core. This was the Garrus she’d known was in there from the start. All of his doubt was gone and in its place was a confidence that was sexier than anything she’d ever seen. Leading their team, being trusted to lead _her_ team and bring them back alive under impossible circumstances, had changed him. It had shown him what he was capable of. As far as she was concerned, his training was complete and he was now her equal and he knew it. That gave him even more confidence in his role in their personal relationship, which made her want to cede control to him.

“Fuck, Garrus. Do you have any idea how hot that is, how goddamn sexy you are, how much I want you?” she asked. “You’re fantastic. Watching you lead your team, watching you bring together and form a cohesive unit was one of the best moments of my life. When that door opened and Jack and Miranda and Grunt and Zaeed and Tali and Legion lined up on either side of you without hesitation, I wanted to grab you and find a dark corner where we could fuck our brains out. Thinking you’d been shot…you weren’t the only one who got a scare today, sir.”

“Damn, Shepard, you know how to appeal right to my ego, don’t you?” he gasped against her ear, thrusting harder into her. He used an arm around her waist to angle her hips so that he was rubbing against her clit with every thrust and she heard her breath leave her throat in rapid, needy gasps as she began to flutter around him. 

“Garrus, I can’t—oh, gods, please, Garrus, I can’t… _please_!” she pleaded. Stars were beginning to rupture behind her eyes.

“Do not come,” he ordered. She let out a groan that was almost a scream of frustration and forcibly dragged herself away from the edge. It was a greater effort than she’d expected and his relentless thrusts weren’t making it easier. This was his sadistic side, she realized. He didn’t get off on giving her pain. He got off on forcing her to ride that knife edge of desire and denial until he was ready to push her over. His talons scraped across her hips and she bucked into him as she fought her release. It was unnatural, really, to fight against this demand of her body and doing so accomplished exactly what he wanted in accentuating just how much she’d given herself over to him. 

‘Mercy’ was on the back of her tongue when the door opened. Garrus fisted a hand hard in her hair to hold her still and didn’t slow as Thane said, “Shepard, I—oh.”

“Come,” Garrus ordered quietly in her ear before saying, “Thane, you need something?”

“Oh, gods, _Garrus_ ,” Shepard moaned loudly as she clung to him with a hand around his neck and another around his waist. She knew she looked wanton and didn’t care. She didn’t care that Thane was in the room and seeing them like this. She only cared that she’d been given an early reprieve, that Garrus was inside of her and touching her just right and she was flying apart at the seams. 

“I simply wished to check on the commander,” Thane said. “I see you have her well in hand.”

“I do,” Garrus said in that low growl as he ran his tongue over her collarbone and nipped her shoulder. She clung tighter, riding wave after wave of pleasure as he pushed her relentlessly. His teeth broke through the skin, not enough to leave a mark with her skin weaves but enough to make a statement and she thought that if her body got any tighter, she would shatter at a breath. “Unless you want to stay and watch while I fuck her, get out.”

“I will leave you to your…pleasure,” Thane said.

“Krios,” Garrus called out as Shepard shuddered violently and relaxed into a boneless heap beneath him.

“Yes, Vakarian?” Thane asked.

Garrus dropped his forehead to hers and she felt him tense and pulse within her. Her touch turned gentle on him. He pressed his lips to her forehead before turning to look over his shoulder. Shepard nuzzled his throat. “You are the biggest fool to ever walk the stars. When the galaxy gives you its Spirit, you don’t throw her away.”

“I know,” Thane said and left without another word. 

“What was that all about?” she asked when they were alone again.

He shrugged a shoulder and said, “Territoriality. He’s figured out what he gave up. He wants it back. I was letting him know he was too late.”

“Definitely,” she said, echoing one of his favorite words. He purred loudly and leaned back into her hand as she lightly scratched the hide at the back of his neck. His eyes closed and he moved into her touch.

“You scared me,” he admitted. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“I didn’t, either,” she said. “I was really proud of you, Spectre-Trainee Vakarian. You got our people through.”

“I had a good mentor,” he said.

“You’ve got me for as long as you want me,” she said. He dropped his forehead to hers and whispered something in that dialect she couldn’t understand. She closed her eyes and let herself hope.


	14. Chapter 14

Shepard looked around her darkened cell as she tested the cuffs locking her wrists behind the chair to which she was currently strapped. They didn’t give. Of course, they didn’t. Garrus wouldn’t leave something like that to chance and he knew how good she was. The door slid open and she felt a chill shiver up her spine. It was mostly anticipation but there was just enough of that vestigial prey response left in her to respond to the predator walking through the door and it added to the excitement of the game.

He'd changed. His armor was nondescript. His helmet with its darkened visor gave nothing away. His characteristically confident swagger had been replaced by a predatory prowl. She would know Garrus anywhere but if she didn’t, she could admit he’d be a bit terrifying given her current state of immobility. He stalked over to her without a word and seated himself on the table in front of her, very deliberately placing his pistol on the surface beside him in a clear threat, and began slowly stripping his gloves from his hands followed by the helmet. She stared defiantly at him and didn’t speak. She’d been trained in interrogation resistance. She wasn’t about to break from the oldest trick in the book.

What they were doing was both play and a sort of…therapy. The events on Project Base had been giving her nightmares lately and he’d decided to curb those by giving her a situation she could ultimately control. If she was smart enough, strong enough, and fast enough, she could escape this on her own. If she couldn’t, she still had only to give him the information he ultimately wanted—where she’d hidden his sniper rifles…all of them—and he would let her go. For his part, he’d admitted to a fantasy that involved the two of them and the Relay 314 Incident; specifically, one in which he—a turian soldier—had captured her—an Alliance soldier—and was tasked with finding the humans’ weapons cache on Shanxi. And that was why she’d hidden his rifles. 

Hackett’s mission had been a nightmare in itself. Garrus had used his newfound influence to convince her to go against the Admiral’s orders and take Thane and Kasumi with her. She’d resisted but he’d overcome all of her arguments by pointing out a series of rational reasons why she should do so. She wasn’t an Alliance soldier anymore, so she didn’t have an obligation to run this mission at all and especially not to cave to what, ultimately, was a suggestion. If all went according to plan, they could remain out of sight for the entirety of it and no one—including Kenson—would be the wiser for it. The one that had finally served to convince her, though, was that it _was_ a batarian prison and there was every possibility that Kenson would be too injured to help with her exfiltration. If everything went to shit as things tended to do, even Shepard couldn’t hold off a prison full of batarians by herself while carrying a wounded woman who would be at least her size and not getting one or both of them captured or killed. 

She’d been hesitant to ask Thane but he’d been eager to go. The idea of a woman being held captive by batarians sickened him. Kasumi’s eyes had lit up and she’d said, “It’s a heist, Shep. That we’re stealing a person doesn’t change that. I need the schematics of the prison and intel on their security system, the most likely places she’ll be held, the number of guards and their schedules, anything that seems even the least bit noteworthy.” Shepard had reminded the little thief that this was a _batarian_ prison and that intel coming out of the Hegemony was shoddy at best. She’d asked to be dropped in an hour before to do recon and Shepard had agreed with a load of reservations. Kasumi had come through, though. She’d returned with a map of the facility, locations of the guards, their shift schedules, Kenson’s general area, and a plan for extraction. The three of them had been able to quickly make a plan from there. They’d run into some trouble with the guards but Shepard had ordered Thane and Kasumi to stay out of sight unless she went down or she ordered them into the fray. The best-case scenario was that they would get out without even Kenson realizing she’d had backup. 

It had worked to a point. They’d gotten out and Kenson hadn’t had a clue that there were two other people on the shuttle with them. It had been Thane who’d pointed out that something was off and Kenson was speaking in code when the doctor had gone forward to set the VI. The three of them had split up to investigate the base when they’d arrived. Shepard had gone with Kenson and the other two had slipped away. It was a good thing they had, too, because she didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if they hadn’t been there. Kenson turned, the Reaper artifact knocked Shepard out, and she’d been captured. Thane and Kasumi had rescued her and they’d been able to evacuate the Bahak System in time before sending the asteroid into the mass relay. 

Thane hadn’t been happy about her decision to warn the batarians. He’d looked at her sharply and she’d all but seen the image of his dead wife lying on the floor in her own blood. Shepard hadn’t let that stop her. She’d looked at him and asked, “When is it enough, Thane? You got your revenge on the ones that killed her. Where does it stop? Do you really think she’d want this to be her legacy? Three hundred thousand dead men, women, and children? Genocide of innocent people who are essentially slaves of their own government? Do you think she’d care that they’re batarians?” Shame, real shame, had passed over his features then and he’d stepped back. During her debrief, Hackett had said that he didn’t want to think of the consequences that would have come if she hadn’t managed to get the people out in time.

The good news was that with the evidence she and her team had collected on Project Base, she’d been able to prove to both the Alliance and the Council that the Reaper threat was real, that the Reapers were in the galaxy, and that they had a matter of months before the invasion. The Alliance’s Defense Council wanted her to come in and answer for her two-year disappearance and subsequent work with Cerberus. She had refused on the basis that the Council had ordered her to go around and help the various races prepare for the coming war, to build alliances, and to do whatever was necessary to have the galaxy ready to fight. She didn’t have time for a bullshit tribunal. Hackett and Anderson had supported her. 

The bad news was that she hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours at a time since. She had been in some rough situations in the past but she had never been captured by an enemy force. It had shaken her and the what-ifs kept her up at night. What if they’d managed to indoctrinate her? What if they’d managed to keep her until it was too late to stop the invasion or too late to warn the batarians and she’d been forced to spend the rest of the time until they arrived in a cell? What if contact with the artifact had been as insidious as Saren’s contact with Sovereign and she was, even now, indoctrinated and didn’t know? 

Garrus’ voice pulled her out of her thoughts and back into the present. He placed his booted foot on the chair between her legs—a not-so-subtle threat to her hands should he decide to shove her back—and propped an elbow on his knee. This wasn’t her Garrus. This was Archangel. This was the rogue C-Sec cop all grown up and turned dangerous. This was hot. “Who are you?” he asked in Galactic Standard, sounding bored and somewhat mysterious. There hadn’t been translators geared toward humans until the later parts of the war and even those went only from English and a handful of other popular languages to Galactic Standard and back rather than individual alien languages. Human/turian translation software hadn’t come about for almost a year after the war. Thus, he’d turned theirs off since all Alliance soldiers were at least conversational in Galactic Standard and she was fluent.

“Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy, Service Number: 5923-AC-2826, DOB: April 11, 2154,” she replied by rote. 

“Why were you in our territory?” he asked. She remained silent and he sighed and casually began to move his foot, barely rocking her chair. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Commander, but I would advise cooperation.”

“And who are you?” she asked. “Where am I? I have a right to know where I’m being held and by whom.”

“A right?” he repeated. “By whose law? Your own? I am not bound by human laws.” The venom he inserted into the word ‘human’ reminded her of Saren. 

She quoted, “Council law 5,937, Section B, Subset 341. ‘All prisoners of war are entitled to such information regarding their location, the identity of their captors and of the force by which they have been captured, and duration of their captivity as to allow for the prisoner to inform their government of their captivity.’ Subset 342, ‘All prisoners of war are entitled to directly contact the appropriate military officials of their government within two galactic standard cycles in order to inform them of their capture, location, and point of contact to begin negotiations for release.’” 

He cocked his head and said, “Council law only applies to Council races, Commander. There are no legal protections for prisoners of war belonging to non-Council races. You are not entitled to shit. However, in the name of cooperation, I am General Vakarian of the turian Hierarchy. You are currently aboard my ship and are being transported to Palaven. Congratulations, Commander. You will be the first human to set foot on the turian homeworld. I’m afraid, however, that means that there will be no negotiations for release until the end of hostilities.”

“ _General_ Vakarian?” she asked, struggling to keep a straight face. _His_ ship. He certainly was going to milk this for all it was worth.

“Is that somehow amusing to you, Commander?” he asked.

“No,” she answered. “You just seem…young to be a general. Or does the Hierarchy promote…what do they call you bird people when you’re children anyway? Fledglings?”

He moved so quickly that she was still trying to process the blur he became when she felt the back of his hand crack across her face. He hadn’t hit her hard but it was enough to snap her teeth together and make her glad he wasn’t wearing his armored gloves. Concern and uncertainty flashed across his face and she taunted, “Is that all you’ve got, bird boy? It’s no wonder you people can’t take Shanxi.”

He didn’t rise to the bait but it was enough to reassure him that they were still okay and he hadn’t crossed a line. He’d never struck her before outside of occasional smacks to her ass but they’d negotiated this. He settled back onto the table and said, “Why were you in our territory, Commander?”

“I heard a rumor that you guys grow feathers at night and fly around. I wanted to see if it was true,” she answered. 

He sighed and gave a push with his foot that was enough to send her chair tipping backward. He caught her by the hair before she could hit the deck of the cargo hold where Zaeed had resided until the job was over and break her hands. _Good catch,_ she thought but didn’t say as that wasn’t her role. Instead, she glared up at him. He shoved her forward and, still holding her by the hair, pushed her head to the side. “I see humans are incapable of taking good advice. For such a…soft species, that seems downright foolish. I think you were looking for something.”

“A pretty turian,” she said.

“I wouldn’t judge my scars too harshly, Commander,” he purred. “You’re going to leave here with some of your own if you leave at all.”

“Those are scars?” she asked, infusing surprise into her voice. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell. I thought it was just your face.”

“Would you like to see how they look on you?” he asked, trailing a talon up the side of her neck.

“No, thanks,” she said. “You know, you’re a turian. You’re ugly anyway. If you’re self-conscious, I bet you could just slap some more face paint on there and no one would even notice.” 

“Are all humans this rude?” he asked conversationally, drawing his talon down one of her faded PT shirts, dividing the Alliance logo, and leaving it hanging open over her chest. He took that same talon and drew it lightly over her breast. The nipple pebbled in response and he traced the line of her areola, using just enough pressure to draw pinprick points of blood in a circle. 

She bit back a moan and said, “Only the ones who get kidnapped and tortured.”

“I haven’t _begun_ to torture you, Commander,” he purred. “This wouldn’t even qualify as an actual interrogation yet. Friendly questioning, tops.”

“I’ve got a friendly question for you,” she said brightly. “What do you call it when a turian gets shot by a big, spiky monster?”

“Friendly fire,” Garrus answered automatically, forgetting his role for a moment. “Come on, that one goes back to…ah. I see what you did there. Good one.” 

“Thanks,” she said. 

He slipped back into his role and she was amazed by how quickly he went from her warm, friendly Garrus to cold and threatening again. “What were you looking for, Commander?” he asked again.

“Big game trophy,” she answered. “You see, Shanxi’s been infested by dinosaurs and no one back home will believe me because we were told they went extinct. I figured if I could get one of their heads, I could make a lot of credits on it, maybe retire altogether.”

“Do not make me repeat myself, Commander,” he said in a warning tone, tightening his hand around her breast until his talons dug into the skin.

“All right!” she said in an exasperated tone that turned confidential. “My guys are assholes, right? They all say I have a stick up my ass and this one guy, Joker, said I might have some relation to you guys. The problem is that I’ve never really gotten a close look at any of you. Your heads explode so quickly in my scope that I don’t really have time to make a comparison.”

“This is not a humorous situation, Commander,” he said coldly but she heard the humor in his subvocals. If she could get him to laugh, she could talk him into letting her go.

“That’s too bad, General,” she said, “because I have _so many_ of these saved up.”

Making him laugh didn’t work, though she tried, so she moved to attempting to provoke him as she began to attempt to hack the cuffs with her omni-tool. It was easier said than done on both counts. She wasn’t the greatest hacker to begin with and doing so behind her back was more a matter of chance than skill. Additionally, she was reminded that he _was_ in reality a trained interrogator and one who had experience roughing up suspects at that. 

Once he was certain that she was as into it as he was, he didn’t hesitate to use his fists, teeth, talons, feet, knees, and anything else at his disposal that wouldn’t actually cause her harm to punish her for her smartass comments. When he noticed her attempts at hacking, he overloaded her omni-tool. The resultant shock made her curse but he just laughed at her and, damn, that was sexy. She loved that he was confident in her ability to take what he dished out, that he respected her toughness and didn’t hold back short of actual harm, that the look in his eyes was just as eager as she knew the one in hers to be. She was bruised, bloody, and completely turned on. 

He drew his talon along the lower curve of her breast and she felt blood bead in the trail of fire left in its wake. She was able to contain her moan but not to control the exultant sound of the breath she drew in. “You like this,” he accused. “You filthy humans do get off on anything.”

“What’s wrong, General?” she asked. “Disappointed your ‘interrogation’ tactics won’t work?” 

“Oh, they’ll work,” he said with a purr. “As a matter of fact, I think this just got much more interesting. I’ve been curious about humans. You look somewhat like asari and they are considered the most desirable species. Perhaps there is some use for your kind after all.” His tongue snaked out and licked away a drop of blood on her chin and then his mouth was crushing her bruised and split lips as a button press allowed him to stand her up. He grabbed her by the hair and shoved her down face-first onto the table. “Move without permission and I will fuck your asshole with my talons exposed,” he warned. She didn’t think he would do it. He could. He would have filed his talons if he’d been considering it and that would make it merely uncomfortable rather than dangerous. However, she was fairly certain the point was to make a threat serious enough that she would know not to move without him having to break role.

She remained still and heard him move behind her. There was a squeal and then he said bitingly, “You know, humans really _do_ look a bit like pyjaks.” She turned her face to the table to hide her laughter as she figured out what was going on. A pair of pyjaks had stowed away on the shuttle on Zorya and the female had been pregnant. The resultant litter meant that the _Normandy_ was now infested with the slippery bastards. Grunt was having the time of his life but the rest of them were getting sick of the thieving intruders. One had apparently found its way to the cargo hold. Garrus threw it into the trash compactor and sent it out into space before returning to her.

He moved her cuffed hands from behind her back to a point on the wall in front of the table and abruptly pulled her pants down to her knees. “Where is the weapons cache, Commander?” he asked.

“There’s a weapons cache?” she asked innocently. “I’m afraid I can’t help y—” 

She was cut off when he slammed into her to the hilt. She wasn’t as prepared as he normally got her and the added friction combined with the sudden intrusion had her fighting to move to a more comfortable position. With her legs closed as they were, the normally tight fit was made even tighter and it was almost like their first time again only without the time to adjust. He held her still with talons in her hips and his teeth on the back of her neck. “You will not finish until you tell me where the weapons are located, Commander,” he said warningly. “If you do, you will be punished.”

“I know I’ll be punished if I tell you,” she said, distracted by the quick, sharp thrusts with his hips. “Why do you think I’m not telling you?”

“So you do know,” he said, sounding satisfied. _Shit,_ she thought. _Note to self, don’t ever allow real interrogation while being fucked by Garrus._

“Know what?” she asked, deciding to play dumb. “I know a lot of things. I know how to shoot a gun. I know the best way to get a good shine on my boots. I know four human languages. I know the best chess player in the Alliance. I know how to make kava.”

“How does a human know how to make kava?” he asked as he continued to pound into her.

“Extranet video,” she said. “Oh! Hey, you know what? I know the location of something better than weapons. We intercepted a supply drop with real kava beans and something that smells like alcohol and something else that looks like chocolate and tastes way too sweet.”

His pace faltered as she’d expected. This was her ace in the hole, though she wasn’t opposed to him continuing to fuck her like this. It still hurt a little but sex and pain were a delicious combination. She knew that he hadn’t had real kava since before Omega and she’d gotten his sister Solana to send some to Arcturus when they’d stopped there for her briefing with Hackett. They were still a few days from Palaven and she knew that was what he’d been looking forward to most when they got to his homeworld. 

“I can get kava when we get to Palaven,” he said eventually and she cursed. Of all the times for his patience to make an appearance. And, unfortunately, he also knew that she’d give it to him anyway. 

He began thrusting again and she rocked helplessly back into him as desire began to fray her control. He drew his tongue up along her spine and nipped at her neck before releasing her hip to bring a hand around to her front. Breathy pants turned to gasps and then to moans as he worked her with his fingers and continued to slam into her from behind. Every movement made her breasts rub against the table and the burn from his talon marks heightened her sensation. 

“Tell me where the weapons are, Commander,” he ordered, placing his teeth on her shoulder. 

“No,” she said. 

He applied pressure and she felt the tips of his teeth pierce through the skin. Her moan reverberated around the hold and he pulled away with a cursed, “Spirits, Shepard.” 

“Garrus, please,” she gasped.

“Tell the good general where you hid the weapons and he’ll let you come,” he said in her ear. 

He shifted his angle until her favorite of his ridges rubbed directly against the spot inside of her that he knew drove her wild. She cried out and rose onto tiptoe, seeking more as her fingers scrabbled against the metal surface of the table. She was so close. She was _right there_. She thought it was almost shameful that he could break her resolve with nothing more than his dick and his voice but this was _Garrus_ and she couldn’t deny him for long anyway. 

“Grunt’s tank!” she said. 

“You put my rifles in Grunt’s tank?” he asked incredulously.

“Last place you’d look. Oh, fuck, Garrus!” she moaned.

“Is it clean, at least?” he asked. 

“They’re fine!” she shouted. “Goddamn it, Garrus, let me come!”

“Oh. Yeah. That. Go ahead,” he said, tweaking her clit with his fingers as he simultaneously pulled her hair. She sobbed out her release as he pounded into her and growled out his own. A few minutes later, he asked, “So…where’s that kava?”

“I’ll never tell,” she said.

“Oh, really?” he asked and flipped her onto her back. His eyes glittered with laughter as he licked up the back of her thigh. “I think I can change your mind.”

After that, when she dreamed of captivity, she dreamed of him.


	15. Chapter 15

Palaven, ‘a silver world of fortresses and fire.’ Shepard had never been there before. Garrus directed them to the capital, Cipitrine, and the _Normandy_ found herself among a host of ships that shared more similarities than she’d realized once one got beyond the basic Alliance shape of the frigate. Joker was immediately entranced. He bitched about having to wear an exo-suit to get out of the ship but quit bitching when Garrus recognized one of the Hierarchy cruisers and said he knew the captain and could get him a tour.

Kasumi and Thane had departed at the Citadel. Thane had promised to contact the Illuminated Primacy and ensure that Kahje was prepared and that he would rejoin her once the war started if he was able. They both knew it was unlikely that he would be. Kasumi had left Shepard the dress and one of her books that she kept meaning to read but hadn’t had time. Miranda and Jacob had left at Arcturus and Anderson had recruited Jack. Zaeed had departed on Omega without a word. They’d docked and he’d left the ship and hadn’t returned. She was left with Garrus, Samara, Grunt, Tali, Legion, and Mordin along with most of the remaining Cerberus crew who’d chosen to defect with her and see it through. Each of her other crew members aside from Garrus would be leaving at their homeworlds to try to help lead the people in preparing.

Garrus had said that his father was friends with Primarch Fedorian and felt that he would be able to advise from the _Normandy_ as long as they could get enough people together on Palaven. They were concerned that Shepard without Vakarian would look like she’d lost her support as he and Tali were the last ones from her run against Saren remaining with her and quarians tended to be doubted by other races. The three of them together, though, would add legitimacy as they’d been her original ground team and had seen it all from the beginning. 

She sent the others out on shore leave and accompanied Garrus to what he called his parents’ house. She thought it was telling that he didn’t refer to it as home. He had no hesitation about using that term for the _Normandy_ but wouldn’t use it for the place where he grew up. Either he viewed the _Normandy_ as his home now—which she was more than all right with—and felt that he’d outgrown his childhood home or the rift between him and his family went deeper than she’d realized.

The house, she saw when they arrived on the outskirts of Cipitrine, was more accurately qualified as an estate. Rolling silver fields bordered by silvery trees surrounded a sprawling dwelling that brought to mind ancient Roman villas. For someone raised on starships and in military housing on various space stations, someone more accustomed to a single cabin or bunkroom than even a small house with a yard, this was outside of her realm of experience and, she admitted, slightly intimidating. “Just how high up in the Hierarchy are you guys?” she asked with only a hint of nerves.

He gave a self-deprecating shrug and said, “I try not to think about it. Hopefully, high up enough to get the Primarch to listen. The rest of it doesn’t really matter.”

He waved a hand over the lock on the door and waited. A few moments later, it opened to reveal a young female turian who gave what would have been an excited squeal and threw her arms around Garrus. He stumbled back half a step as he caught her and Shepard’s translator struggled to keep up with the woman’s rapid speech. “Garrus! You’re home! It’s about damn time, you idiot. Where in spirits’ name have you been? Did you get my message? What the hell happened to your face? Dad is going to lose it when he sees that. Is this her? It is! So that’s why you’ve been off gallivanting around the galaxy. I can hear it! Spirits, Garrus, a human _and_ a Spectre? Are you just trying to get Dad pissed off at you? Not that I disapprove! You two seem joined at the hip. So were you together while she was supposedly dead? Is that why you vanished? Why are you just standing there? Come inside. The commander must be burning up in that suit. Hello, Commander Shepard. I’m Solana. I apologize. I just haven’t heard from my brother in over two years and I’m a bit excited. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Shepard tried not to laugh as she shook Solana’s hand. Garrus said dutifully, “I’ve been…on an assignment with Shepard. I don’t want to talk about my face. Yes, this is Shepard. No, I am not trying to piss Dad off. No, we were not together while she was dead. Yes, I vanished partly because she died. I’m standing here because you’re still in the doorway. And yes, I got your message. How’s Mom?” 

Shepard didn’t have to be turian to read the expression that came over Solana’s face. She reached out slightly, offering her hand if he wanted it but subtly enough that he could ignore it if it would cause problems. He took it and gripped hard. “When?” he asked.

“Last month,” she said. “I tried to send you a message, but it bounced back undeliverable. I’m sorry, Garrus.”

While they were on the other side of the relay, then. He’d been leading her team through the Collector base while his mom was dying. He took a steadying breath and squeezed her hand again before dropping it and gesturing for her to follow Solana into the house. She thought that if she hadn’t been certain before, she’d have known the moment they went inside that this was a house in mourning. Some things weren’t so different between species. The curtains on the windows were drawn. The artwork on the walls were covered by banners with a crest she didn’t recognize. Garrus saw her looking at it and explained that it belonged to his mother’s family. There was light but it didn’t dim the pall of a home that had lost one of its essential pieces. 

They passed a room that seemed central to most of the house which she thought would correspond with the living area of a human home and she saw medical equipment including a hospital bed tucked into a corner. They hadn’t hidden her away when she had begun to decline. They’d given her pride of place and kept her in a location where she could be accessed easily by the family and could still witness the goings-on of her household even if she hadn’t always been able to understand them. Many humans would have just put her in an elder-care facility. Not so here. Family and community reigned. The matriarch would not be forgotten that easily even if her memories of them had been stolen. 

Garrus seemed riveted by the sight of the room and she put a hand on his shoulder. She felt a pang of guilt as she did so. He hadn’t been here because he’d been helping her. He’d missed the last nearly three years of his mother’s life, either directly or indirectly, because of her. If she hadn’t allowed him to come with her way back when, he’d have been here. She had no idea where she would have been without him to pull her ass out of the fire but he at least would have been here. “I’m sorry, Garrus,” she said quietly.

“Not your fault,” he said, knowing her meaning without her having to explain. “What we were doing…it’s necessary. She’d have wanted me out there doing it. She would have understood. I just…wish I’d told her.”

“She would have just worried about you,” Shepard said. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “She probably would have. But she’d have known…”

“She knew, Garrus,” Solana said. “There at the end, she talked about you all the time. She talked about how proud she was of you and told everyone who’d listen how you’d helped save the Citadel. She said…she thought you were off on a secret mission to save the galaxy. ‘You’ll see, Castis,’ she’d say. ‘Our boy is going to save the world with that human commander. They’ll write a book about them someday. My son’s a hero. I always knew he would be.’”

“Damn it, Sol,” he said in a choked voice.

“She loved you, Garrus,” Solana said. “What you were doing tended to vary, but she knew you were doing something important.”

“Garrus,” a male voice said from behind them. Shepard knew before she turned to look that it was his father. Castis Vakarian sounded like an older version of his son and, she saw when she did turn, looked it as well. Shepard guessed that Solana had taken after their mother with her sunflower skin and bronzed plates.

“Dad,” Garrus said, sounding more reserved than she’d ever heard him.

“You’re home,” Castis said. “I assume you got that little target practice issue straightened up.”

Garrus nodded and said, “With a little help from an unlikely source. Dad, this is Commander Shepard. Shepard, this is my dad, Castis Vakarian.”

Shepard carefully repeated the traditional greeting that Garrus had taught her. It didn’t translate into something she could understand and she wished she’d pressed harder for a translation when Castis looked at Garrus in shock and Solana made a sound that approximated to a whistle. She looked to Garrus to see if she’d butchered it and found him looking at his father with something akin to defiance. She heard rumbling from both men but couldn’t understand the nonverbal communication.

Solana eventually said, “You’re being rude in front of a guest. Commander, why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you to, uh, Garrus’ room then, I guess.” 

“What did I say?” she whispered when they were out of earshot of the men.

“He didn’t tell you?” Solana asked, sounding surprised. Shepard shook her head. Sol said, “You can take the suit off here. The house is shielded. Anyway, it’s a, uh, traditional greeting.”

“He told me that much,” Shepard said. “What am I missing?”

Solana cleared her throat to cover what she thought was a laugh and said slowly, “It’s a traditional greeting for someone coming to meet the family. Does that, uh, have the same connotations in human society?”

“You mean, I just told you and your dad that I’m Garrus’ girlfriend and he hadn’t told you first?” Shepard asked. She was going to kill him.

“Not…girlfriend, exactly. At least, not if that word is translating right. It’s…you basically just requested consideration for joining our family. It’s the first step in the bonding process. I cannot believe he didn’t tell you.”

Shepard took a deep breath to steady herself and said, “We, uh, talked about it. A little. It was just in far-off future terms. I didn’t realize he meant now.”

“Oh!” Sol said. “No! Not _now_. It’s just that if he’s ever going to bond with you traditionally then he has to have that consent first. This may be the only time for a really long time that you guys will be here if you take into consideration the fact that we haven’t seen him in almost three years and even then, Dad was only around him for about two months before he disappeared again. Before that, it had been a few weeks before you recruited him to go after Saren. So he’s probably thinking that if he wants to be able to do it any time in the next few years, he had to start now.”

“And if your father refuses?” Shepard asked, thinking of the look on Garrus’ face.

“That…won’t happen, I’m sure,” Solana said but Shepard thought she sounded doubtful. “Here you go. Just put your bags in here. This is Garrus’ room. I’m sorry about the mess. We haven’t had it cleaned since the last time he was home.”

“I live on a ship with him,” Shepard said with a smile. “I know how he is. I wouldn’t touch it, either.”

“You might be able to get away with it,” Sol said. “We wouldn’t. Get settled in and change into something more comfortable. Garrus will come get you when he and Dad finish yelling at each other. I need to go finish dinner. If you don’t mind, I might recruit you to help. He sent me a recipe for something called lasagna but I don’t know if I got it right or not.”

“I brought food,” Shepard said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Solana grinned at her and said, “He didn’t teach you _anything_ about turian culture, did he?”

“Oh, shit,” Shepard said. “What’d I do?”

“We’re your hosts and knew you were coming,” Solana explained. “Well, I did, anyway. And you’re traveling with Garrus. Bringing food just in case is fine, but telling your host you did it is like saying that you don’t expect us to make sure you’re fed when we know you can’t eat our food. I’m not offended. He should have told you. I don’t know much about human culture, either, so I’m sure I’ll slip at some point, too. I would appreciate it if you explain when I do.”

Shepard decided that she liked Garrus’ sister. She was straightforward, compassionate, kind, and had the same core of steel that ran through her brother. “Thank you, Solana,” she said.

“Call me Sol, Commander,” Solana told her.

“If you call me Shepard,” she said. 

“Deal.” Solana smiled at her again and then left.


	16. Chapter 16

Shepard put her bag down and removed the helmet of the exo-suit. She set it on the desk by the wall and looked around the room with a smile. It was so…Garrus. Everything down to the bedding and the color on the walls was silver and blue. The desk was cluttered with gun parts that had been stripped down, forgotten datapads, tools, and a disassembled omni-tool. There was a sock on the floor by the laundry chute and his bed was unmade. For someone who lived on a ship and had been military for years, he avoided making his bed like the plague. There were landscapes on the wall of various places that she assumed were across Palaven and a few star systems she herself had always thought particularly breathtaking. 

A group of holos on the desk caught her eye and she examined them with a wide grin. In one, little Garrus and little Sol circled each other with heavy purple fruits that looked like water balloons in their hands. Another showed a baby Garrus in the arms of a woman who looked like Solana and had to be his mother. A third showed Garrus as a child with a rifle that was far too big for his small frame with Castis holding another beside him. A fourth showed a teenage Garrus with a female she didn’t recognize. He was in a military dress uniform with insignia that told her he couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen. The female was wearing a red dress that matched the markings on her pale face and fluttered about her long legs. Her hand was entwined with Garrus’ on her shoulder. Both of them were grinning at the camera. 

The door opened and Garrus came in. He looked around the room and saw her examining the images. She looked up at him as he came over and scooped the holo of him with the girl off the desk and tossed it in the direction of the trash. “Why’d you do that?” she asked.

“I didn’t think you’d want a picture of my teenage girlfriend and me in the room where we’re staying,” he said, slipping his arms around her waist. “It’s disrespectful.”

“You were, what? Sixteen? I don’t think I need to worry about it,” she said warmly. “Unless, of course, you’re still pining for her. In which case, I can just go.”

Garrus shook his head and said affectionately, “Bitch. I’m trying to be considerate here and you’re making fun of me.”

She said, “You have a past before me. As long as it stays there, I’m really not worried about it. I don’t expect you to pretend it didn’t happen. You dealt with my ex-lover being on our ship and in our ground team. I can handle a holo. She was clearly important if you kept it all these years.”

“I don’t need it,” he said, placing his forehead against hers. “I’m completely happy with what I have.”

“Speaking of which,” she said.

He winced. “About that…I’m not trying to pressure you. I just don’t know when we’ll both be here again. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t notice and then it would just be one less thing we had to worry about in the future if you decide you want one with me. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or rushed into something you aren’t ready for.”

She lifted a hand to cup his scarred mandible and said, “I love you, Garrus Vakarian, sir. Just…tell me before you have me asking your dad for your hand in marriage again, okay?”

“Why would you want my hand?” he asked. “I mean; I know you like them but I prefer them still attached.”

“Human expression,” she said. “Your hand is safe.”

He kissed her forehead and then released her. “Get changed. Dad wants to hear our story.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Spectre whites or Alliance blues? I’m not sure which one’s going to be less inflammatory here but I don’t think fatigues or civvies will be appropriate.”

“Dress blues for Dad, Spectre whites if we go to see the Primarch,” he said. “He’s worked around humans enough that he doesn’t automatically hate the Alliance. There are some out there, though, who would automatically be against you because of it.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” she said and began to change. She heard a rumble behind her and then his hands were on her. 

“Let me help with that,” he said and pushed the exo-suit down over her shoulders. His mouth followed the trail of exposed skin and her head fell back to his armored chest. He cupped her breasts in his hands and ran his thumbs over her nipples before sweeping them down her ribcage and stopping again at her waist. The rumble grew louder and she shifted her feet apart as his hand slipped down between her legs. She reached up and held onto his collar as he began to work her with his finger. “I want you to come for me, Shepard,” he said in her ear. “When we’re done with this, I’m going to bring you back in here to my bedroom and fuck you in my bed.”

“Garrus,” she gasped. Her hips rolled with the movement of his hand and she heard the breathy sounds coming from her lips. He knew now exactly how to touch, how quickly, and in what places to drive her up in a matter of moments. His tongue was on her neck and she gripped tighter to his collar as her knees began to tremble. She wanted him to bend her over and take her right here and now. She wanted to feel him inside of her, to hear the slap of skin against hide, to feel his talons on her hips. He knew this, of course, and slid his finger down and inside of her. She groaned and rose onto her toes as a second finger joined the first and his thumb brushed over her clit. “Garrus!”

“Come for me, Shepard,” he murmured.

“Oh, gods, yes,” she moaned as she obeyed. 

“Clean up and get dressed,” he said when she’d stopped shaking.

She did so and then followed him out of the room down the long hallway with its honey-colored marble walls shot through with warm crimson threads. The main part of the house was arranged around a central atrium with wings on either side. One wing belonged to Castis and, formerly, Lavinia. The other belonged to Garrus and Solana with a guest room at the end of the hallway. He told her that there were servant’s quarters in the back but that they only had an elderly bonded couple who’d been with them for as long as he remembered now. He helped Castis with the grounds while she helped Solana with the house. They were essentially part of the family by now and had been offered the guest room more than once and refused, preferring their own house in the back where they’d lived for more than three decades.

Castis was waiting for them in a library with a door made of glass framed in real wood. He gestured for them to take a seat on the couch across from the heavy chair in which he sat. Shepard searched his face for any sign either positive or negative of her reception but he was impassive. He was here in official capacity and she could work with that. That was where she was the most comfortable and the most likely to shine.

She remained quiet as Garrus began to detail the mission against Saren. She was impressed. He didn’t ramble. He didn’t elaborate except where necessary for context. He laid it out like a report and she thought that she was seeing a side of Garrus the C-Sec agent she hadn’t before. This was the side that had received the numerous commendations in his file. He was going to do well as a Spectre. She wondered if he had told his father yet and thought not. 

She spoke only to clarify a point or to add something on the rare times he missed an important detail or confused the time frame. It had been more than two years for him but only a matter of months for her so it was clearer in her mind. He conceded to her account rather than trying to contradict it and, through it all, his father listened. Garrus skimmed over the years on Omega before turning the tale over to her for her portion of it prior to him. He’d missed some of the crew’s assignments but none of the major missions until the end when they’d had separate parts to play. He gave his account and then sat back and allowed her to give hers. When that was through, she told him about the Bahak System and the Reapers’ arrival and offered to forward all of the data to him. 

She expected him to laugh. She expected him to ask if they’d lost their minds. She expected him to order her out of his house for leading his son on whatever the turian equivalent of a wild goose chase was. Laid out like that, it seemed impossible. Hell, she’d _lived_ it and it still seemed impossible. Talking to the rachni queen, Sovereign on Eden Prime and Virmire, the Collector base, all of it, really. He didn’t, though. He considered it quietly for several long moments. 

When she was about to assume that he really did think them insane, he finally spoke. “I was on the Citadel when Sovereign attacked. The story about the geth never sat right with me. I have been witness to government cover-ups before and thought even then that it stank of one. The pieces fit. I would like all of the supporting documentation you have and can share, Commander. I will take it to the Primarch this evening after dinner. I expect that he will see it as well. Be prepared to go before him in the next day or two. Both of you.”

Garrus gaped at his father. “You believe us?”

“I tend to do that when presented with a rational argument complete with facts rather than emotion,” Castis said archly.

Garrus looked at her and said with astonishment in his voice, “We have a chance, Shepard. If he believes us, then we actually have a chance. We can warn people. We can prepare. We can have a plan and be ready to fight. If we aren’t blindsided by it, we’ll be able to act as a cohesive unit.”

“It’s going to take more than just us, Garrus,” she said, “but this is a big step. Without the Hierarchy and Alliance fighting together rather than independently, we’re doomed before we start.”

“It’s a chance,” he repeated.

“Yeah, Garrus,” she said. “It’s a chance.”


	17. Chapter 17

Castis left after dinner—which had been surprisingly good given that it was Solana’s first try and she had no idea what the food she was preparing even was—and returned a few hours later. Shepard thought she read something just short of defeat in his eyes. He wasn’t as easy to read as Garrus but their faces were similar enough that she could see frustration there. The meeting hadn’t gone as hoped. He gestured for them to follow him into the library again and they resumed their earlier places.

“I have good news and bad,” he said. “The Primarch did listen. However, he doesn’t believe the scale. He is giving you a task force, Garrus, and the freedom to run it as you see fit, requisition what you need, and put a plan in place but he isn’t going to make it a Hierarchy-wide endeavor unless ordered to do so by Sparatus. You will need to return to the Council and speak with him. Convince him to talk to Fedorian directly. In addition, he has elevated you several tiers in order to give you the authority to instruct the generals you will need. Your new title is ‘Expert Reaper Advisor.’ There are…strings attached.”

“There always are,” Shepard said, trying to ignore the anxiety beginning to roil in her gut when he glanced at her on the word ‘strings’. 

“What are they?” Garrus asked.

“He wants you to marry his daughter,” Castis said. He turned to Shepard. “Marriage and bonding are separate things in our society. One can do both with the same person but it isn’t required. Marriages are generally arranged for political or social standing while bonding involves emotion and partnership. It would be a legal arrangement only.”

“No,” Garrus said. 

“Then you will not get what you need,” Castis said.

“Find another way,” Garrus insisted.

“Garrus,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. “If this will help save Palaven and Earth and all the other worlds, you can’t refuse.”

“I can and I will,” he said. “Shepard, marriage can’t be forced on us. I won’t do it.”

“You like Nyreen,” Castis said. “You two were close when you were children. Can you not come to some arrangement?”

Garrus scoffed. “Sure, Dad. I’ll just call her up and say, ‘Hey, Nyreen. It’s Garrus. I know we haven’t spoken in ten years and we dated for almost a decade but would you be okay with being my wife on paper while I live my life elsewhere with my future bondmate whom I’m no longer going to be allowed to marry?’ No. Find another way.”

“Garrus—” Castis began.

“No,” he said firmly. He turned to Shepard and said, “You’ve said yourself that I’m trained. We go before the Council. Get me instated. Then I can use Spectre authority to get what I need. Rank won’t matter. I’ll be able to requisition supplies. I can do everything as a Spectre that I can as an expert advisor, whatever the hell that is, and I don’t have to marry the girl in the holo.”

“How much help do you think the Primarch is going to give you when he finds out you did that to get around the one request he made in exchange for his help?” Shepard asked as her heart sank and responsibility warred with love. 

“It isn’t help!” he exclaimed. “It’s a token to shut us up!”

“You have a duty—” she began.

“To what, Shepard?” he exclaimed. “To stud myself out on command? Is that what you want, Shepard? You want me to be forced to come back here once a year to fuck some other woman so that she can bear my children when you, the one I do love, can’t? How long do you think we’ll last? Hmm? How long do you think that you and I will last once she’s had my child? I can’t very well spend my life out there knowing I have a son or a daughter back here who doesn’t even know me. Or are you going to live with us? That may be fine for a turian but this isn’t your _culture_ , Shepard. That would be inherently wrong in your culture. 

“Answer me. Are you going to move in with us and help me raise my children with another woman? Are you going to lie in bed alone at night every year while I fuck her down the hall? Two kids, Shepard. Turians in arranged marriages are expected to consummate the marriage and produce at least two children, a male and a female. We can genetically engineer to ensure that we get it in two but what happens when she doesn’t get pregnant for months or years? What happens when she conceives and miscarries? That happens a _lot_ with us. We aren’t talking two years. There’s six between Solana and me with three miscarriages and they loved each other. Year after year, knowing I’m married to someone else and you are going to be seen by your people as nothing more than my mistress. How long will we last then?”

His words and the emotion and intensity of them cut her to the bone but she forced herself to say, “How long will we last if the Reapers win, Garrus? We’re a team. We’ll figure something out. We always do. If we can survive this war, we can figure out a way to survive your marriage.”

“You have a rare sense of duty and honor for a human,” Castis said, reminding them of his presence. “I approve. And, strangely enough, I agree with Garrus. I would not if you were turian but you are not and I know enough about humans to know how you would be viewed among your own people. You would be a laughingstock. Even hiding the relationship would not keep you safe from it because bondings are recorded. It will make the news if Commander Shepard bonds to her turian comrade. The two of you as a pair are already quite famous. That in itself could be detrimental to the war effort. Unfortunately, I do not know what to do. I have no solution.”

“I do,” Sol said, coming into the room. “And you should have brought me in on this in the first place. Primarch Fedorian has a son. I was in the military with him. He’s unmarried and unbonded. Convince Fedorian to accept me in Garrus’ stead. Tell him he has already begun the bonding process with another whom he plans to marry but that I have not.”

“Solana,” Garrus said. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You aren’t,” she said firmly. “I like Titus. He’s a good man. I could do far worse and if you’re in an arranged marriage, it won’t be long before I am, too. The Primarch’s son is quite a catch. I wouldn’t be sacrificing anything.”

“Solana,” Castis said, “he’s—”

“Gay,” she said. “I know. That’s why this is perfect. I can marry him and bond to another. Tarquin and I have been discussing it but he isn’t highly ranked enough for marriage to be a possibility and isn’t likely to be. General Victus wants to marry him to a girl we went to school with. They’re friends but nothing more. This way, Fedorian gets to marry Titus off. Titus marries someone who likes and respects him and can bond to whomever he wishes. I bond to Tarquin. Tarquin marries Nyxis, and on and on. Many people are happy. Garrus, Shepard, and Nyreen aren’t miserable. Dad, Nyreen is still in love with Garrus. She wouldn’t accept a bondmate. She isn’t cruel, so she wouldn’t deliberately make things difficult but this can be a hard enough system when everyone gets along. Add in that it isn’t Shepard’s system and Garrus doesn’t want to be there and even the kindest person can become impossible to deal with when made unhappy enough.”

Castis nodded and Shepard tried to swallow her relief when he said, “I will present the idea to him.”

Garrus pulled Shepard to him and put his forehead against hers before looking at his family and saying sincerely, “Thank you.”

Castis sent them out so that he could call Fedorian and present their counter-offer. The three of them waited impatiently in the dining room until Castis came out and nodded. “Oh, thank the Spirits,” Garrus sighed. He grabbed Solana and spun her around. “You are the greatest little sister in the entire world.”

“I like her,” Solana stage-whispered. “She makes you happy. I want to see you happy. Besides, she’s good for you. You’ve grown up, big brother. Uglier now, but that can’t be helped. You have gotten Shepard’s eyes checked, though, right? I wouldn’t want her getting them fixed and coming home and realizing what a mistake she’s made.”

“Brat,” Garrus said.

“You love me,” Sol asserted.

“I do,” he agreed.

A few minutes later, they were in his room again. He pushed her up against the wall and kissed her thoroughly while hastily removing her uniform. Her own hands flew over him, removing his clothing, desperate to be skin to skin with him. She would have agreed to it if she’d had to. For him. Only for him. But she’d been thinking of Thane and Irikah even as she’d pushed him toward it and her heart had sunk. She was his and he was hers. Shepard and Vakarian against the galaxy. That was how it should be. 

Garrus toed off his boots and stepped out of his pants without breaking the kiss as he hooked his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her. Her legs wrapped around him and he drove into her with a single thrust. She was ready for it this time. She needed the stretch, the slight burn, the feeling that only he could give her of being filled and claimed and owned. Her back slammed against the wall as she held the back of his neck. 

He turned abruptly and used his hands to raise and lower her even as he walked quickly to the bed. He dropped them onto it and wrapped his arms around her, driving harder still. She remembered what he’d said about fucking her in his bed. They had fucked in his cot once with her riding him from above but it had been somewhat awkward and unstable and they’d ended up laughing at themselves when it was over. Every other time, it had been up against some surface or in her bed. She didn’t entirely know why it made a difference whose bed it was but it did. It was like she was making her mark on a space that was totally his.

“Come, Shepard,” he ordered before she could make the request. “Come hard for me. I don’t want to know where you end and I begin.”

She did as he pistoned into her with a hand braced against the wall above their heads and an arm around her waist. He was the absolute sexiest thing she had ever seen. She loved him, heart and soul, and neither Primarchs nor the Reapers themselves were going to come between them. Air, though, was a different story, she reflected as he collapsed on top of her. Air could come between them. She tapped his shoulder and he shifted slightly, allowing her to breathe. She realized then that she hadn’t panicked. She’d known he wouldn’t let her suffocate.


End file.
